


We Fools Who Love, Part 4

by Could_it_be_magic



Series: We Fools Who Love [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, F/F, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29635614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Could_it_be_magic/pseuds/Could_it_be_magic
Summary: Natasha surrenders to Tanya in order to protect the children.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: We Fools Who Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113254
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha surrenders to Tanya in order to protect the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is some dark stuff in this chapter.

“Hello Tanya,” I said quietly.

The masked figure before me tilted her head the other way, but said nothing.

“Why so shy?” I asked caustically. I gestured angrily at the ruined house. “You did this, almost burned my friends alive, stole their children, all so you could meet me face to face again – aren’t you at least going to say hello?”

I felt both amusement and anger from her at my presumption, but she still declined to reply. With a bitter snort, I took a step closer. “Where are the children?” I demanded.

The hood moved slightly as she inclined her head again, indicating the jet behind her. Setting my jaw, I strode past her and up the ramp. My heart gave a lurch of relief. I ignored the presence of the three hard-faced, muscular men in green and black uniforms who stood watch. I had eyes for no-one but the four terrified youngsters who huddled together, as far away from the men as they could get, in the line of seats against the interior wall. In two strides I was at their side, kneeling beside them, wrapping my arms around all four as they hurled themselves at me.

“Auntie Nat!” Tears streaked Lila’s cheeks. “Mom and Dad,” she croaked urgently. “Are they alright? I couldn’t tell, Auntie Nat, I couldn’t stop them –“

“They’re okay,” I murmured softly, hugging them all tightly. Nathaniel sobbed loudly, but Morgan simply clung to me, her face white, eyes dry and glassy. Cooper wasn’t crying, but he trembled violently, his bangs twitching all over his face. “It’s okay,” I tried to reassure them, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Your parents are going to be fine. Auntie Mel got to them in time. They’re going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

“I want to go home!” Nathaniel howled. He tugged on my arm desperately. “Please Auntie Nat! Fight the bad lady so we can go home!” He cringed away, and I clenched my jaw as I sensed Viper behind me, the ramp closing up as she stepped back inside.

“You’re in serious trouble,” Cooper told her suddenly, his newly broken voice shaking with rage. “Auntie Nat is going to kick your butt!”

“Is she now?” Viper drawled, and the hairs rose on the back of my neck, hearing her speak for the first time. That soft voice was so devastatingly familiar.

“Yes!” Cooper roared, his fists clenching. “Do it, Auntie Nat! Show her! Kill them for what they did to Mom and Dad!”

Flinching, I laid a calming hand on his shoulder. “Easy,” I murmured. “It’s going to be okay. Just calm down.”

His eyes stared into mine, full of anger and fear and betrayal. “Why aren’t you fighting them?” he demanded, tears beginning to well up.

“Ah my dears.” Viper’s voice was quiet, gently mocking. “She’s not here to fight. She’s giving herself up. Throwing herself on my mercy, to protect you.”

Nathaniel sobbed even harder at that. Lila looked terrified. Morgan just stared blankly. Cooper shook his head frantically. “No,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “She’s here to rescue us. You’re here to save us, aren’t you Auntie Nat? You’re here to kill the bad guys!”

I didn’t answer. Patting him on the shoulder, I slowly stood up to face their captor, shielding the children with my body. “Let them go,” I said softly.

Viper cocked her head to one side again, maddeningly. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I felt them studying me intently from behind the mask.

“Let them go,” I repeated grimly. “You’ve got what you wanted. You have me. You don’t need them anymore. Just let them go.”

“And if I do, you’ll what, come quietly?” Viper drawled, almost lazily. “I think not.” She turned away with a swirl of her cloak, gesturing sharply at her watching henchmen. One of them bowed his head at her silent instruction and immediately slid into the pilot’s seat, flicking switches. The engines roared into life.

“No!” I stepped forward furiously, grabbing Viper by the shoulder. “I’ll do whatever you want, all right? Just release them!”

“Take your hand off me.” Viper’s voice was suddenly thick with menace. Her two remaining bodyguards made no move, but I sensed them tense in readiness. The very air seemed to crackle with the violence that was a hairs-breadth from erupting, but though my own muscles trembled with eagerness, I fought down the overwhelming urge to attack. I remembered all too vividly how well-matched Tanya and I were, and that was before she had the added advantages of experience and venom-coated nails. I couldn’t hope to hold off both her and her guards, not and protect the children as well. For a few seconds, we glared at each other. Then I slowly released my grip on her shoulder.

“Better,” Viper said dangerously. “Now, seen as you value their lives so highly, I suggest you sit down and keep them quiet.”

Defeated and hating her for it, I backed into a seat beside the children and gestured for them to huddle close, wrapping my arms around them again.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Lila whispered, her eyes following Viper fearfully as the woman sauntered into the cockpit.

I pressed my lips to her hair, doing my best to ignore the way the eyes of the two men avidly watched every movement. “I don’t know, sweetheart. But I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you. We’re going to be okay. I’m here, and I’m going to get you home to your parents. I swear on my life you will all be safe.”

There was little more I could say, and the children were too frightened to talk under all those malevolent eyes. I settled for holding them, trying to impart what reassurance I could with my closeness as I mentally steeled myself for a long, difficult journey. Exhausted from terror, Nathaniel and Morgan soon fell asleep, huddled together on my lap, much to my relief. Lila leaned against my side, her head on my shoulder, and I could see her eyelids drooping. I hoped she would sleep too. She was a tough little thing, her father in miniature, but twelve was still far too young to cope with such horror. I glanced sideways at Cooper. I was most worried about him. The fifteen-year-old sat hunched in his seat, his hands clenched into tight fists. Anger and desperation radiated from his rigid form, and he glared at the two guards who sat opposite with a seething hatred that was profoundly disturbing. He had always been so light-hearted, full of jokes and laughter and boyish pranks. I hated to see him like this, like he had been forced to grow up in an instant, shoulder a burden no grown man should have to bear, let alone a teenager.

“Cooper,” I whispered softly, trying to reach him. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

He didn’t answer, didn’t look at me. “Trust me,” I murmured again, “like your Dad trusts me. I’ve always had his back, haven’t I? I’ve always made sure he came home to you. Now I’m going to make sure you come home to him.”

I sensed his tension lessen slightly. He still wouldn’t look at me, but he did shuffle a little closer, and I breathed a faint sigh of relief.

The journey was indeed difficult, but to my distinct surprise, not nearly as long as I expected. Even at Mach 2, I calculated it should take at least three or four hours to travel from Missouri to wherever Viper’s base was hidden somewhere off the arctic coast of Russia. I was trying to console myself with the fact that I would at least finally find out how she had achieved the impossible, and defied every attempt we had made to discover its location, when I was startled out of my thoughts by a change in the sound of the engines. We were slowing down, and it had been barely ninety minutes.

I glanced towards the cockpit. Viper was lounging casually in the co-pilot’s seat, one leg crossed over her knee. The mask turned in my direction and she raised her hand, beckoning me with one pointed green talon.

I scowled, tempted to defy her summons on principle, but curiosity won out. I gently eased the children off my knees, settling them as comfortably as I could. Cooper was the only one still awake, and I squeezed his shoulder briefly before making my way to the cockpit, moving up behind the pilot, who stared dead ahead and did not acknowledge me. “Well?” I demanded, crossing my arms. “What do you want?”

Viper shrugged, a graceful movement that made her hood ripple. “I thought you’d like to see my headquarters for yourself, seen as you and your friends have spent so much time and energy searching for it.”

Frowning, uneasy that she had guessed my thoughts so accurately, I glanced sharply at her, but the mask gave nothing away. At that moment the pilot engaged reverse thrusters, halting our forward momentum with a jolt, and then hovering in mid-air.

Peering out of the cockpit windows, feeling slightly bewildered, all I could see was ocean, a vast flat plain in several shades of greyish-blue, dotted here and there with floating islands of ice. We were indeed in the arctic it seemed, but surely the wrong part? I surreptitiously glanced at the instruments, checking our co-ordinates, which confirmed my mental calculations were accurate. We were well over two thousand miles from the section of ocean we had so diligently scoured for the base, hovering just over a hundred miles off the north-eastern coast of Canada. I cursed inwardly, my thoughts spinning in circles, trying to make sense of this information. How was this possible? Viktoria had specifically told us she had travelled from the base to Murmansk by submarine in just over sixteen hours. There was no submarine in the world that could make that journey from here in that time. Had Viktoria lied? But she had told the truth about everything else, why would she lie about that?

“Oh Viktoria told you the truth,” Viper said softly, as though reading my thoughts. I could tell by her voice that she was smiling. “You were searching in the right place. Just at the wrong time.”

I stared at her in confusion.

Her voice became insufferably smug. “I’m afraid your informant was ignorant of a few key details.” She gave a theatrical flourish, like a magician revealing a trick, her gaze leaving my face and turning to the ocean below.

Craning my neck once more, I looked down, and could not prevent my jaw from dropping.

The ocean below us had begun to boil, bubbling and frothing as though a mighty whirlpool was forming, as though some gigantic denizen of the deep had found its way to the surface. Further and further the churning spread, until it covered an area larger than a blue whale. Larger than a container ship. Larger than an aircraft carrier! But still nothing could be seen of what was causing it.

“Deactivate cloaking,” Viper drawled. Her tone was triumphant.

The pilot relayed the order, and a shimmer seemed to pulse through the chaos below, starting at the centre and traveling rapidly outwards, leaving gleaming silver in its wake. My eyes grew to the size of saucers, staring in utter disbelief at the metal monstrosity emerging from the depths, water pouring off its smooth surface.

“It’s a submarine,” I whispered. Her statement that we had been searching in the right place at the wrong time suddenly made sense. I rounded on her, a jolt of sheer astonishment and terror making me reckless. “Your entire base _moves_?” The implications were beyond horrifying; that she had the vision and means to create such a thing, that none of us had had so much as an inkling that it was even possible. That my friends could hunt for us with all their might, and would never find us…

“The largest submersible vehicle in history,” Viper said quietly, a fierce pride in her voice that I could not help but concede was thoroughly deserved. “Twenty decks of pure titanium, over a thousand feet in diameter, every inch of it covered in cloaking sensors. Eight gigantic engines, powered by the nuclear cores of sixteen decommissioned submarines. Well,” she gave a little shrug, “they were just sitting there, doing nothing, poisoning the sea beyond Murmansk. Only fitting, I thought, for the remnants of Russia’s old military power to become incorporated into the new vision of the future.”

I licked my lips, struggling for words. “ _How_?” I asked, still reeling. “How could you possibly build this without us knowing? _Why_ would you build it? Who even _designed_ such a thing?”

“I did,” she replied matter-of-factly. Her mask turned slightly towards me, and I could have sworn the unseen eyes behind it were amused. “The ocean is Earth’s last true wilderness. The oceans encircle the globe, cover seventy percent of it. Within their depths I am not only hidden, I am everywhere!” She snapped an order to the pilot, who nodded and began to descend.

I swallowed, fighting to keep my composure as a feeling of dread swept over me. I watched helplessly as we descended vertically towards a huge portal that was spiralling open in the centre of the structure. My eyes struggled to take in the scale, then I saw tiny figures scurrying about, and the true size of the submersible became apparent. This monstrous vessel was the biggest single man-made construction I had ever seen in my life, and I was seeing only the upper few decks. Like an iceberg, I sensed the greater part of its bulk was still beneath the surface.

“Auntie Nat! Auntie Nat, what’s happening?” I heard the choked whimpers from behind me, and fought for control, to conceal the fear on my face before I faced them. My mind floundered as I desperately tried to come up with words to comfort them, to tell them everything was going to be alright, but as it turned out, I was spared the need to lie to them.

“I think you’ve seen enough,” Viper said silkily. I sensed her nod, sensed the movement behind me, and even if the presence of her young hostages had not precluded me from resisting, I would have been hard pressed to avoid the punishing blow that descended like a lightning bolt and knocked me senseless.

****

Waking up in chains was becoming a disturbingly regular occurrence these days.

Groaning as I came awake, my hand reached automatically to rub the throbbing lump I could feel above my right ear. Alarm was swiftly overtaken by resignation as I found myself unable to complete the movement, arrested by the familiar jangle of metal.

Opening my eyes, wincing as my vision swam, I squinted around until I located the blurred green and gold shape in front of me. “I’m not sure that was entirely necessary,” I mumbled thickly. Blinking rapidly, my vision cleared, and the blur of colour resolved into the figure of Viper, sat at her ease in a comfortable chair a few feet away, still wearing her mask and hood. Did she ever take the damned things off? Perhaps only when she was alone, I thought, noting the presence of the pilot and the other two men from the jet, standing silently behind her chair.

Carefully, wary of provoking her but not wanting to appear cowed, I raised myself up on my knees, then pushed to my feet. At least I wasn’t dangling from the wall this time, I thought, trying to stay optimistic. Instead of holding my arms above my head, the chains were fixed to either side, allowing me to either sit or stand, but short enough that I could do neither comfortably, and I couldn’t bring my hands together at all. I couldn’t even touch my face. Annoyingly, my nose immediately began to itch.

I cast a quick glance over my surroundings, and my brows rose. This was a far cry from my last place of incarceration. I knew instantly that I was in Viper’s personal quarters. The sheer size of the room I was in would have told me that, even without the extreme luxury that was evident everywhere I looked. Only someone of supremely high rank could be allocated such a lavish amount of space, even in a vessel as large as this. The room formed an enormous semi-circle, suggesting the curved outer wall was part of the main hull. There were no windows at all; illumination came from several tall lamps and a large blazing firepit with an elaborate chimney that dominated the centre of the one flat wall. The rest of the room appeared to be laid out like the spokes of a wheel from that central feature, distinct functional areas artfully separated by ornate screens, exotic pot plants and strategically placed furniture. A sleeping area with the largest bed I had ever seen; an area with comfortable couches and a huge dining table; a bathing area that looked like it came straight out of a movie about Cleopatra, with a tiled pool sunk into the floor; a section at the far side that looked like it might be a study or work-space. Each area had its own individual style, and yet flowed harmoniously into the next, forming a perfectly balanced whole. The room had the stamp of Tanya’s personality all over it.

The thought made my heart give a sudden twist. I could see the girl I had known in this room, feel her presence like a living entity in this space, and yet the woman I could feel glaring at me from behind the gold mask felt like a total stranger.

A glint of reflected firelight caught my eye, and I peered towards the far side of the room, beyond the large desk and bookcases that made me think of a study. A mosaic of faintly gleaming, irregularly-sized glass rectangles appeared to be embedded in the wall at the very furthest reaches of my vision. I couldn’t for the life of me fathom their purpose…

With a curse I realised my mind was wandering. They must have hit me harder than I thought. I wrenched my mind back to the present, casting my eyes over the room one more time, frantically searching. The children, where were the children? They were nowhere in sight.

“Where are they?” I demanded furiously, yanking on my chains. “What have you done with them? If you harm a hair on their heads I swear I’ll –“

“You’ll what?” Viper interrupted. Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “What will you do, Talia? Do tell.”

I clamped my jaw shut on the temptation to tell her _exactly_ what I would do, and simply glowered. “Trust me,” I spat through clenched teeth. “You won’t enjoy it.”

Her head cocked to one side, and she seemed to consider that thoughtfully. A shiver trembled down my spine as I felt my temper rising; my shadow flickered in the light of the fire, seeming almost to beckon invitingly. These chains could not hold my shadow, I could incapacitate my captor and her henchman in less time than it took to exhale, and there was nothing she could do to stop me! Nothing! Except…

Viper didn’t move, but, despite the fact that I could see neither her eyes nor her expression behind the mask, I sensed her gaze sharpen with expectancy. I gritted my teeth, exhaling slowly in frustration as I realised I dared not make a move right now. Not when she still had the children. I had no idea where they were, or what contingencies she had set in place in the event of anything happening to her. I dared not attempt anything just yet, not unless I could be sure my actions would not jeopardise the children’s safety.

Viper nodded slightly, as though she could see my thoughts. Her head cocked to one side again, slowly, and I sensed both satisfaction and curiosity. After a moment, she turned her head towards the pilot who stood at her left hand. “What do you think, Sergei? Is she beautiful?”

Sergei looked uneasy, clearly wary of expressing an interest in his mistress’s plaything, but equally afraid to be caught in a lie. “I… I guess so, Lady.”

“You guess so.” Viper sounded impatient. “Perhaps you should have a closer look.” Her voice became whiplash sharp. “Strip her.”

Sergei licked his lips nervously, glancing at his watching comrades, then pulled a knife and advanced on me. I clenched my teeth as he cut away my clothing, trying to ignore the gleam that lit in his eyes, and the way his hands unconsciously lingered as he exposed my flesh. His task complete, he dropped the ragged remains of my clothes to the floor and stepped back, but seemed reluctant to back away entirely, his gaze transfixed by the quiet heave of my breasts with my rapid breathing. I glared but refused to flinch under his greedy stare.

“She _is_ beautiful, isn’t she?” Viper said softly, almost wistfully.

The man nodded as though he couldn’t help himself. I could see the front of his trousers straining.

“You are a good pilot, Sergei,” she murmured. “You have served me well. Go ahead. You may take her.”

My stomach dropped as he looked surprised, then grinned, flashing a look of unmistakable smugness at his two comrades. “Thank you, Lady!”

Fighting for control, refusing to let them see me panic, I forced myself to remain still as he reached for me, greedily running his callused hands over my flesh, fondling my breasts. His touch made my skin crawl, and I involuntarily shrank back against the wall, revulsion making me want to retch as he fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers, freeing his engorged member. There was no movement from the woman in the chair, and I realised she really was going to let him do this.

Rage flooded me. I began to shake, almost overwhelmed by the savage desire to let go of all control, let the monster loose and see how the randy little brute liked me then! I fought the urge desperately, terrified of endangering the children. Tearing the pilot’s throat out with my teeth was not going to help either them or me. I had no choice, I had to endure. I had done it before, I could do it again. With a supreme effort of will, I drove the rage back, overriding the surge of bloodlust. The shaking in my limbs stilled, though I could not supress a shudder as the man hefted me and pinned me against the wall with his body, prising my legs apart.

I could feel the eyes behind the mask boring into me, felt her slight spark of surprise when I didn’t fight back, but I ignored her. I turned my face away, retreating inside my head. I forced myself to think of Melanie, only Melanie, as I felt the pilot’s rigid manhood eagerly probing, seeking to push his way inside.

My eyes shut tight, I missed the moment when Viper suddenly moved.

The pilot’s body was abruptly torn away; I felt him plucked from me before he could penetrate. I fell back with a thump that bruised my naked buttocks, but had no time to be thankful for the reprieve; my eyes opened wide just in time to catch the blur of movement as Viper spun the man around and slashed her hand viciously across his neck.

The man clawed at his throat, tripping and falling to the floor, astonishment freezing on his face, his eyes bulging. Her slash must have damaged his larynx, for though his mouth opened, he seemed unable to speak. He simply writhed, making horrible gurgling noises of agony. Too shocked even to react, I watched him thrash in his death throws, until finally his eyes glazed over, his hands fell limp. He stopped twitching and lay still. The two men remaining twitched no muscle, their faces determinedly impassive.

Lifting my eyes back to the masked murderer in front of me, I watched her in stunned silence as she plucked a sanitising wipe from a box on a nearby table and began fastidiously cleaning her nails.

“Why?” I managed to ask, my mouth dry.

Viper shrugged, dropping the used wipe in a waste paper basket. “I wanted to see what you would do.”

Before I could even begin to process what had just happened, there was a loud knock at the door. Viper made no move to answer it, engaged in studying me intently, but whoever it was appeared undaunted. My eyes snapped to the ornate double doors as they opened, and a middle-aged man in an impeccably crisp black suit, complete with waistcoat and tie, bustled into the room..

“Good evening, milady,” he said in a deep, pompous voice. To my surprise, he spoke English, with a cultured accent that Melanie would have called ‘posh’. “I trust your trip was profitable?” He glanced at me, a measuring look that evidenced no surprise at finding a naked woman chained to her wall, then down at the body still lying at my feet. He seemed unsurprised by that either. “I see it was,” he added, not waiting for her reply. Then he rounded on the two men still standing behind her chair. “Well? What are you two waiting for? Get that stinking carcass out of milady’s chambers immediately!”

The two men exchanged glances, then looked to Viper, who indicated they should comply with a lazy wave of her hand. Still showing no expression, they picked up the body of the pilot, one taking the arms, the other the feet, and carried it away. The man in the suit shut the door behind them with a sharp click. “Such a mess,” he tutted, his gaze going to the tattered remains of my clothing littering the floor with displeasure. He bustled over and hitched up his trousers irritably before kneeling down to gather up the pile of shredded fabric. “I take it another vacancy has opened up on your staff, milady.”

“I’m afraid so, Marcus,” Viper answered absently. She turned away, and my breath caught as she finally lowered her hood. Lustrous dark hair tumbled over her shoulders as she removed the cloak, tossing it unceremoniously over the back of the chair. I swallowed hard as her hands went to her face, and she lifted the mask free. It must have been specifically moulded to her face, for I could see no sign of any straps or fastenings holding it in place as it came away. Still with her back to me, she laid the mask down on a sideboard and selected a squat glass from a selection encircling a fancy decanter, pouring herself a generous measure of the amber liquid within. “Kindly inform Commander Roth that I will be requiring a new pilot.”

“As you wish, milady,” the man intoned. Consigning my ruined clothing to the waste paper basket, he tutted again in disapproval and scooped up her discarded cloak with a flourish, heading towards an enormous wardrobe to put it away. “And what time would milady like her evening meal? Monsieur Goudé tells me he has procured some truly delectable swordfish, which he recommends on a bed of steamed vegetables and new potatoes, with just a dash of cream sauce. Of course, if milady wishes something else –“

“No, no, the swordfish will be fine,” she cut him off dismissively, “but not yet, Marcus. It was a long trip, and I’d like a bath before I eat.”

“Of course, milady. I’ll prepare your bath immediately.” He bustled off.

I could have sworn the woman hesitated for a brief second before finally turning to face me. I fought to remain impassive, though my heart fell like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest. The face before me could have come straight out of my memory. Despite almost twenty years having passed for her since we had last met, her face was still youthful, perfect, ageless; she looked barely older than Viktoria. Green eyes that had once looked at me in love and longing now revealed resentment and simmering anger, and a hint of calculated speculation. Tanya regarded me thoughtfully through narrowed lids, absently sipping her drink.

I looked away, uneasy beneath her scrutiny. It occurred to me that she had never truly intended to allow her pilot to ravish me; it had been a test, I realised with sudden cold certainty. She said she had wanted to see what I would do… and suddenly I understood. She knew what Goravitch had done to me all those years ago, knew all about the mindless, bloodthirsty creature he had unleashed and unwittingly caged again. Whether he had told her, or she had simply helped herself to the same notes that I had recovered from the Red Room, mattered little. She knew I had powers, and she knew I had unlocked them; what she didn’t know was how far I had managed to gain control over them. That was the reason, or one of the reasons, for the chains; she wasn’t sure whether keeping the children hostage would be enough. Those eyes missed nothing; she had seen my struggle as I fought the temptation to unleash my inner demon, and it had intrigued her when nothing had happened.

I briefly wondered what the unfortunate pilot had done to deserve the gruesome fate she had anticipated; judging by her manner, the lack of carnage had certainly surprised her, as had the fact that she had been forced to intervene. She seemed oddly piqued by my lack of performance, as though denied a treat she had been looking forward to. Satisfying though it was to have circumnavigated her wishes, I worried about what was going on in that analytical head of hers. Would she catch on that the metamorphosis was not in fact the full story, but merely a facet of a much more versatile ability? I could see her mind working, and wracked my brains desperately for a means to distract her from pursuing that train of thought. In that, I had an unexpected ally.

“If you’ll permit, milady,” Marcus said pompously, reappearing at her elbow. “If I might be so bold as to suggest, you may wish to see the Night Master while I you await your bath. He’s waiting outside.”

Tanya pursed her lips, a look of irritation crossing her face. “Of course he is,” she muttered under her breath. After a moment, she shrugged. “Very well, send him in.”

“Certainly, milady,” the man agreed with a birdlike bob of the head. He tapped briskly back to the doors, opening them to admit a figure swathed in black.

My brows rose on seeing that familiar profile, surprised to find yet another male Tanya had detested still alive and, apparently, in a position of privilege. He must surely be getting on a bit by now, but he appeared to have altered as little as Tanya had, although I detected a hint of silver at the roots of his hair and a distinct air of fragility in his bearing that suggested _his_ ageless appearance had more to do with dye and surgery than biology.

“Lady,” the dark figure murmured with a respectful bow.

Tanya acknowledged him with a faint incline of the head, but didn’t look at him, still thoughtfully sipping her drink.

I cringed a little inwardly as his eyes flicked quickly over me, and just as quickly away. I determinedly fixed my gaze on the less disturbing figure of Marcus, who was bustling about the bathing area, setting out towels and various articles for Tanya’s toilette, a large waterfall tap slowly filling the pool set into the floor.

“I see congratulations are in order,” the Night Master said smoothly.

Tanya’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Lucien?”

Despite my situation, I had to press my lips together to stifle a snigger. _Lucien?_

A flash of annoyance passed over the man’s face, quickly stifled; his eyes flicked in my direction again for the merest fraction of a second, as though he dared not openly stare without permission. I had no doubt that what he wanted was to verify my presence for himself, but considering the corpse he had surely just witnessed being dragged from her quarters, he was understandably wary. “I gather you’ll be needing a new pilot,” he said, avoiding her question. He arched a curious eyebrow. “What did he do to warrant execution, may I ask?”

Tanya cast him a withering glance. “He talked too much,” she said acidly. “And you didn’t come here to discuss staffing arrangements. What do you want?”

He hesitated.

Tanya placed her glass down and strolled towards him, unhurriedly, but with a dangerous glint in her eyes. I saw the Night Master’s throat tighten, but he did not flinch as she reached him and laid her hand lightly on his neck, her lethally pointed thumbnail directly over his jugular. “I grow weary of your games, Lucien. I will ask you one more time. What do you want?”

The Night Master swallowed, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out over his brow. “Now is that any way to treat an old friend?”

Tanya gave a loud snort. “Don’t flatter yourself. I let you live as long as you continue to amuse me, Lucien, but your little intrigues are trying my patience. Now answer the question, before I decide it’s time for you to retire – permanently.”

The Night Master returned a tense smile. “A little bird told me that you had returned, with a prisoner in tow. A prisoner whose face you kept hidden, and brought straight to your own personal quarters… I can think of only one personage who would merit such an honour.”

Tanya’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps a few of your little birds need their wings clipped,” she hissed, her grasp tightening.

“But then they would be of no further use to either of us, would they?” A muscle ticked in his cheek, but he held his ground. “They could, for instance, be deployed to neutralise these _wild_ rumours as to the identity of your guest… before certain other parties were to hear them.”

Tanya went very still, her eyes searching his face intently, then abruptly she let go of his jaw. “Very well.” She gestured curtly. “Satisfy your curiosity if you must.”

I supressed a shiver as the man turned to look at me directly for the first time, then sauntered closer. He took his time, looking me up and down while I silently fumed. “She surrendered?” he surmised at last, sounding surprised and a little dubious, his expert eye noting my lack of any recent wounds.

Tanya smiled faintly, moving to his side. “Everyone has a weakness, Lucien. Even the mighty Black Widow. It just took a little while to find her Achilles heel, but now that I have it… she is mine. To do with as I will. And she will not lift a finger to protect herself. Will you, dearest?”

I gritted my teeth and looked away as she reached out and ran the point of her nail along my jawline. Her eyes narrowed, and her fingers abruptly curled into a fist. Her blow was unexpected, snapping my head back, so that I also bashed the back of my skull against the wall, making me see stars for a few seconds. Though she was close enough for me to do just as much damage to her with my unbound feet as my restrained hands, I did not retaliate. I merely shook my head to clear it, and glowered, licking blood from my lip.

The Night Master looked fascinated, and a little disgusted, at my refusal to fight back. “Remarkable. I find it difficult to conceive that she would allow herself to fall prey to such weakness, that she could care for anyone so deeply…”

All his attention on me, he missed the spark of intense pain that spasmed over Tanya’s face. It was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by a sneer, but I knew what I had seen, and my anger abruptly drained away. My heart aching, I gazed at her in sorrow.

“The Great Betrayer…” the Night Master mused, oblivious. “After all these years, here she stands, at our mercy…”

“ _My_ mercy,” Tanya corrected, her eyes smouldering. “She is _mine_ , Lucien. Do not forget that.”

“Of course,” the Night Master replied smoothly. He pursed his lips, still studying me as though I was a piece of art on the wall. “What do you plan to do with her?”

“That is my business,” Tanya said coldly. “Now I suggest you get out and go back to minding your own.” Her fingers twitched alarmingly.

He gave a casual shrug, turning away as though losing interest. “Very well. I will instruct the specialists in a little gossip to be planted amongst tonight’s clientele. Several of the lab assistants are amongst them; that should ensure the right rumours reach the right ears.”

“Quite,” Tanya said ungraciously.

The Night Master raised an eyebrow, daring to look a little aggrieved at her lack of gratitude. “I assume _you_ will not be requiring anyone to attend you tonight, with such a delightful diversion to pursue?” he said acidly.

I couldn’t supress a gulp at that. I had all-too vivid recollections of Viktoria’s tale of how Tanya liked to entertain her prisoners. And yet, for the first time, Tanya looked uncertain. A flicker of something I couldn’t read passed over her face, then her expression turned stony. “You thought wrong,” she snapped, stalking back over to the sideboard and picking up her glass once more, pouring herself another libation. “Has Luella returned?”

The Night Master looked surprised. “Why yes. Several days ago.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Tanya asked caustically. “Send her to me at once!”

He glanced at me, his expression uneasy. “Are you sure you want to – ?”

“Must I repeat myself?” Tanya interrupted dangerously.

The man bowed hastily. “Of course not, Lady. I will inform Luella you require her presence at once.” Without another look at me, he left the room.

There was silence after his departure. Tanya returned to studying me over the rim of her glass, sipping her drink slowly, until the tap of polished shoes preceded the reappearance of the butler, Marcus, to inform her the bath was ready.

“Thank you, Marcus,” she replied a little distractedly, her eyes still on me. “You may bring my meal at nine-thirty precisely. See to it I am not disturbed until then.”

“Very good, milady.” He bowed with dignity and left. I strained my ears, trying to gain any clue as to what lay beyond those doors, but his footsteps vanished the moment the doors closed behind him. The room had been effectively soundproofed, I noted, which did not bode at all well. Evidently Tanya liked her privacy. Presumably the rumours of what went on within these walls, not to mention the remains of her victims, were perfectly adequate to cow her followers without them needing to be able to hear it too. Reluctantly, my gaze returned to the room’s owner, my heart twisting painfully that the young woman who had shown so much promise had descended to this.

Tanya saw the sorrow and disgust in my eyes, and scowled. Abruptly she drained the remains of her drink and stalked away, slamming the empty glass down on the sideboard as she passed. She disappeared from sight behind an elaborate screen beside the now-full pool, which was turning the air hazy with lavender scented steam. I gulped at the suggestion of movement behind it, and one by one, her garments were flung over the top. Then she stepped out, and I felt my eyes bulge involuntarily. Naked, she was just as magnificent as I remembered. Gracefully she tested the temperature of the water with her foot, then descended into the hot, bubbly water. The suggestion of a smirk on her lips left me in no doubt that she had seen my reaction.

 _Dammit_ , I thought savagely, furiously averting my eyes. How did she do it? Almost two decades, and yet time had done nothing but add a mature lushness to her figure. Every line was still perfect, her skin still unblemished by any scar. How was that possible? I mentally tried to tally all the scars I had acquired over the last twenty years, and failed. There were too many, although for the most part they were well healed and barely visible, and no longer reminded me of the dangers of my occupation every time I disrobed.

But Tanya had never faced those dangers, I realised suddenly. Tanya had never had to fight for her life, had never experienced the constant near-brushes with death that I had. My interference had granted her the unique opportunity to gain high rank without the years of vicious bloodshed it usually took to reach such exalted heights, and once firmly set above the others, I imagined even in a practice bout no-one would have dared leave a mark on her. I mentally filed that observation away for future consideration. It could potentially be a weakness I could exploit… but I found it difficult to keep my mind on strategy just now, my eyes continually darting back to the bathing area despite my best efforts. An intense ache throbbed in the pit of my stomach, a surge of desire that no ugly thoughts could supress.

I was trying to wrestle my unruly body under control when there came another knock at the door, this time a quiet yet eager tap.

“Enter,” Tanya called lazily from the bath. I dragged my eyes away from her breasts, floating at the surface of the water like islands amongst the bubbly foam, to look to the newest arrival.

The left-hand door opened, and a woman slipped through, quickly shutting it again behind her. I eyed her curiously. She was mature but not old, perhaps in her early thirties, and very striking to look at, with hair so pale it was almost white, which made her dark eyes even more startling by contrast, and wearing an outfit that left very little of her to the imagination.

“Luella.” Tanya’s soft voice, drifting through the steam, was both an acknowledgement and a summons.

The woman hurried to the side of the pool and knelt beside it. “You’re back,” she said, in evident relief.

Tanya seemed to sigh. “I was hardly in danger, Luella,” she replied, a hint of rebuke in her voice. “There was no need for you to be concerned.”

Luella looked slightly hurt. “Someone has to worry about you,” she said with a touch of reproach.

“Oh shut up and bring the solution,” Tanya snapped. She rested her elbows on the edge of the pool and held out her hands, water dripping from her vivid green nails. For the first time, I noticed that not all her nails were long and sharp; in fact only those of her thumb and index fingers were. The rest were trimmed short.

Luella bowed her head and hurriedly retrieved a silver tray on which rested a shallow dish and an ornate crystal vial. She quickly poured the contents of the vial into the dish, and pushed it towards Tanya, who then dipped her fingertips into it. There was a sizzling sound, and the liquid appeared to boil, giving off an acrid smell.

After a minute, Tanya lifted her hands again, examining her nails minutely. They were no longer green, and I nodded to myself in grim understanding. Melanie had been right, the poison was in her nail varnish. Presumably the solution she had just dipped them into was a potent mixture that dissolved the toxin, leaving her nails harmless once more. I tried not to think about why she might be removing it now.

Apparently satisfied, she nodded to Luella, who gingerly picked up the tray, carrying it – very carefully – somewhere out of sight. A moment later she returned, and without ceremony, removed her own scanty apparel. I gritted my teeth against a hot flush as she stepped down into the pool behind Tanya and took her in her arms.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she murmured, tilting her face expectantly. “Life is so dull without you.”

Tanya rolled her eyes, but indulged her with a faint smile. My stomach gave an unpleasant twist as I watched them kiss. Was that jealousy I felt?

“I take it your own mission was a success?” Tanya asked lazily when they broke apart. “Did you find her?”

“Of course,” Luella replied, selecting a sponge from the side and beginning to soap her back and shoulders. “The bastard had loaned her to a friend, but I soon tracked him down. She was locked in his attic.” She sounded angry.

I saw Tanya’s eyes narrow. “I trust you dealt with this friend?”

Luella’s lips curved in a grim smile. “Languishing with the expendables as we speak.” Her voice softened slightly. “I put the girl in with the others downstairs. They’ll take care of her. If she settles, and is amenable, you might like to consider offering her a place permanently.”

Tanya raised an eyebrow. “Like the look of her, do you?”

Luella shrugged a little coyly. “She’s a pretty thing. Sergei had taste, I’ll give him that.”

Tanya shook her head. “We’ll see.” She settled back against Luella’s full bosom and closed her eyes, to all appearances relaxing. The two relapsed into comfortable silence as Luella occupied herself with the task of bathing her. Her motion was slow and sensual as she soaped the body I knew so well, and relaxed in a way that spoke of long and intimate familiarity. I swallowed hard, my loins tightening as her hands slipped beneath the water. Tanya smiled, arching her neck, making me shiver involuntarily as I imagined where she might be touching. I was relieved when Luella withdrew her hands, but my relief was short-lived, as she then began to massage soap onto her breasts.

I clenched my teeth and dragged my eyes away, averting my face, furious with myself for being aroused, which was no doubt precisely what my captor wanted. Sure enough, I sensed Tanya’s eyes flash in my direction, gauging my response. I resolutely ignored her, ruthlessly driving every hint of desire from my body, striving to express only disinterest and disgust.

It seemed I was successful. I sensed her regard turn cold with fury at not getting the reaction she wanted.

Luella sensed it too. “What’s the matter?” I heard her ask, puzzled at the sudden tension beneath her hands.

“Nothing,” Tanya said curtly.

I risked a quick peek.

Luella looked a little confused by her mistress’s abrupt coldness. She hesitated, then replaced her sponge on the side and reached for a vial of shampoo. Tanya leaned back in silence as the blonde woman began to wash her hair, working the foamy lather into her scalp, gently massaging her temples. Tanya said nothing, but I could feel her growing impatience.

“Enough,” she said finally, pushing the woman way. Dunking herself under to rinse off, she resurfaced and slaked her wet hair back with her hands. Innocently, Luella reached for her again.

“I said, enough!” Tanya snapped, rising up with a great slosh of water and ascending the steps out of the bath.

Taken aback by her abrupt departure, Luella sat dumbfounded for a moment, then scrambled out after her and hurried to hold out her towel.

Tanya snatched it from her irritably and dried herself.

Luella hesitated again, looking uneasy at the woman’s unexpected change in mood. Evidently this was a deviation from the usual script. Tanya tossed the towel down and seated herself before a carved dressing table. A little nervously, Luella took another towel and dried her own body, then, that accomplished, she stood somewhat uncertainly for a moment, as though waiting for instructions.

None were forthcoming. Tanya ignored her, staring broodingly into her mirror. Luella’s brow furrowed, then she warily approached. When the woman still said nothing, she selected a hairbrush and began combing out her hair. Her hands lingered, stroking her mistress’s neck and shoulders, but Tanya’s tension did not ease.

“Lady?” she ventured apprehensively. “Is… is something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Tanya snapped, but in the reflection of the mirror I saw her eyes slide to me. Confusion and uncertainty, well-mixed with rage, flickered across her face.

Luella, greatly daring, bent her head at that moment to kiss her neck. Raising her eyes demurely to meet those of her mistress, she suddenly caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. She gasped, dropping the hairbrush, spinning to stare at me as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Is that -?”

“ _That_ ,” Tanya interrupted in tones I had already come to dread, “is nothing you need to be concerned with.”

Luella heard the danger note in her voice and paled. She dropped quickly to the floor, abasing herself, practically grovelling, her forehead touching the tiles. “Please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to –“

“You will forget what you just saw,” Tanya cut her off harshly. She rose and gripped the woman’s hair, yanking her head up. “There is no-one there. You saw no-one, is that understood?”

“Y-yes, yes, of course,” Luella stammered frantically. “I saw nothing! No-one!”

I watched, mystified at the change. While the two women bathed I had thought I had seen a hint of genuine tenderness between them, even affection; yet now Luella was utterly submissive, fearful, and no wonder. There was a wild, savage look in Tanya’s eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. I had seen that look before, but never this openly. It transformed her, almost as though she had become someone else entirely, as though she no longer needed the mask to become Viper.

Turning her back on me, Viper hauled Luella to her feet by the hair and shoved her roughly towards the sleeping area.

“Please,” the woman begged, tripping and falling back onto the huge bed. “You’re upset, over-wrought, you know what happens when you’re like this, please don’t -!”

Viper slapped her viciously across the face, silencing her.

The woman shook her head, dazed. Then a look of hopeless resignation crossed her face. Bowing her head, she knelt and retrieved a small wooden chest from beneath the bed. Her eyes lowered submissively, she offered it to Viper.

I blanched as she opened it and removed a coiled whip, and watched in disbelief as Luella meekly laid down on her stomach on the bed, spreading her arms and legs, pitifully exposed.

 _Crack!_ The lash of the whip was followed by an agonised squeal.

My stomach churning, I hurriedly turned my face away, squeezing my eyes shut, but I had no way to close my ears. Luella made no attempt to stifle her cries of pain, perhaps having learned from bitter experience that keeping silent only lengthened the ordeal. I kept my eyes shut, wincing at every swish and crack of the whip and sobbing cry. Almost worse than the screams were the silences in between, as though Viper deliberately paused between each stroke to savour her victim’s agony. Each time the silence dragged on, and I thought Luella’s trial was over, it would abruptly be broken by another tooth-jarring whistle of the lash through the air.

Sooner than I expected, though not nearly soon enough, the flogging ended. Reluctantly peeking through my lashes, I saw Luella stirring feebly, her breathing ragged. Fiery stripes stood out starkly on her pale skin, blood trickling down her side where the lash had opened almost surgically-neat gashes across her back. I bit my lips, horrified at the damage that had been inflicted on that beautiful body.

Viper was rummaging in the chest again, and my stomach knotted, dreading to think what was coming next. I had half-expected to go through something like this myself, but to be forced to witness it happen to someone else was almost worse. Then I sucked in a sharp breath, for out of the chest came a black, phallic object I remembered very well indeed.

Viper was breathing rapidly, her breasts heaving, thoroughly aroused. I gulped as she slid the curved end of the dildo inside herself, then roughly dragged the weeping woman on the bed towards her, shoving her legs further apart. Luella cried out as the quivering shaft found her opening and penetrated her with a hard thrust.

I shrank back against the wall, but found myself unable to look away. In spite of everything, in spite of my horror and disgust at what I was witnessing, I felt a dampness between my legs, my own breathing coming faster. Luella was gasping too, and I suddenly realised her moans were no longer sounds of pain.

The difference seemed to cut through Viper’s savage frenzy. She visibly calmed. The feral light faded from her eyes, her expression softening. Her motion became smoother, gentler, and then she reached around, cupping Luella’s breasts tenderly before stroking down her side to rub between her legs. Luella let out another squeal, a very different sound to before. Though her back must have been on fire, she struggled to her knees and began to move with Tanya’s rhythm, until they were gasping and straining as one. Tanya’s right hand was busy out of sight, her attentiveness stimulating Luella rapidly to dizzying heights, for the blonde woman reached her peak first with an ecstatic moan of pleasure, and only then did Tanya’s motion become more aggressive once more, as she raced to her own climax. That pinnacle reached, she grunted her satisfaction, and finally relaxed, and the pair collapsed on the bed. I could have sworn I saw Tanya’s arms tighten around Luella, holding her close for a moment and pressing her lips to her shoulder, before she seemed to remember herself and pushed her away.

After a moment Luella rose and knelt once more at the foot of the bed. Her expression was peaceful, despite the vivid marks of Viper’s rage branded across her flesh and the blood still leaking down her back. She was surely still in terrible pain, yet the eyes she raised to her mistress held no hint of resentment or reproach.

Tanya lazily removed the dildo and tossed it to her. Luella stood and hurried away towards the bathing area. Splashing sounds indicated the task she was performing; I didn’t watch, my eyes riveted in sorrow and irrational longing on the woman lounging on the bed.

Tanya did not look at me, but a suggestion of a satisfied smile lurked around the corners of her mouth. I wondered if she thought I was jealous, then wondered, with a bad taste in my mouth, if she was right. I shoved the thought away.

Luella returned, and reverently replaced the dildo and whip in the chest, then removed something else. She returned briefly to the bathing area, then came back carrying a tray holding a bowl and cloths and what looked like a well-used first aid kit in a worn leather case.

Tanya pursed her lips, and her eyes flicked briefly in my direction again as she frowned.

Luella lowered her eyes. “Please?” she said, very softly.

With an irritable snort, Tanya took the tray from her and indicated the bed. Bewildered, I watched Luella lay down on her stomach as she had before. Tanya hesitated, scowling, her eyes flicking once again in my direction as if she disliked the thought of me witnessing this, then to my surprise she dipped the cloth in the bowl of water and began cleansing Luella’s wounds. While I watched in increasing wonder, she unzipped the first aid kit and tended to the nastier gashes with surgical glue and sterile strips before smoothing on an antiseptic, painkilling ointment, and finally dressed the wounds with gauze and bandages. She seemed to relax, becoming absorbed in the task, and though her expression was still disdainful, I noticed her hands were extremely gentle.

I shook my head, utterly confused by the scene I had just witnessed, one that, judging by Luella’s actions, had played out many times before. I remembered what I had told Clint not that long ago, that Tanya wasn’t evil, just complicated. L’Mak had described her as warped. I was no longer sure either of those adjectives were comprehensive enough to explain her. It was like watching Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde share the same body, endlessly switching places. Did she have some sort of multiple personality disorder? How could anyone show such vicious cruelty one minute, and such tenderness the next? And why did I get the feeling that these two genuinely cared for each other, despite the barriers of rank and abuse?

 _And I thought_ my _situation was messed up,_ I thought dazedly.

Tanya finished tending to Luella and replaced the items she had used on the tray, thrusting it back at her without looking at her as the other woman slowly sat up.

“Thank you,” Luella murmured.

“Get out,” was all the response she got.

A flash of hurt crossed Luella’s face, quickly stifled. She slid off the bed and replaced the first aid kit in the chest under the bed, then returned the tray, bowl and cloths to the bathing area before scooping up her clothing and carrying it out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Unwillingly, my gaze returned to Tanya.

She had her back to me, and sat in silence for a while. Then she suddenly stretched, rose, and moved gracefully to the wardrobe. Selecting a short silk robe, she slid it luxuriously over her shoulders. She slowly tied the belt. Only then did she turn and look at me.

I gritted my teeth. The green silk set off her eyes and her still-perfect skin, and the curve of her bosom and long length of leg displayed by the short hem was somehow even more alluring than her naked body had been. I tore my eyes away and forced myself to meet her gaze steadily.

“So you still like what you see,” she said quietly, a hint of a smirk playing about her lips.

I kept my face impassive with an effort, and shrugged. “Perhaps. Although I find it amazing that someone so beautiful can make herself so ugly,” I said coolly, making no attempt to hide my distaste for her idea of sport.

For an instant she looked taken aback, and I caught a glimpse of my apprentice, contrite under my displeasure. Then she laughed. “I recall a time when you liked to play rough,” she said mockingly.

I curled my lip. “And I recall a time when you tried to get me to beat _you_ like that. Perhaps you should let me down and give me a turn with the whip.” Sarcasm made my voice harsh.

Her expression turned livid, and for a moment I feared I had gone too far. Her fingers twitched alarmingly. Then she controlled herself, and gave a derisive snort. “You wouldn’t do it. You’ve gone soft, _Natasha_.”

“Have I?” I said quietly. “I wouldn’t do it then either, don’t forget. Or has that miraculous memory of yours faded with age?”

She stalked up to me and put her face close to mine. “I forget _nothing_ ,” she snarled. “You are the one who forgot. Disappeared and forgot about me.”

“You only remember what you witnessed. And I never forgot you,” I corrected softly. “There hasn’t been a day since I was forced to leave you that I haven’t thought about you; not a single day that I don’t wish I could have spared you that pain –“

A savage slap silenced me, snapping my head to the side.

“If you dare tell me you’re sorry,” she hissed, her eyes glittering with venom, “I’ll get another of my men in here to play with you, and this time I’ll kill him while he’s inside you!”

I could not supress a shudder.

Tanya backed away, watching me with a smirk, and with a sick feeling that I had lost this round, I kept my mouth shut. The strained silence was broken by another brisk knock, and the reappearance of the butler, Marcus, with her evening meal. He seemed completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere, bustling around setting the table with speedy precision, and laying out the silver dishes with her food. The rich smell as he lifted the lids made my stomach growl.

I saw her lips twitch at the sound, and abruptly she relaxed again. Unhurriedly, she strolled to the dining area and sat down. Marcus poured her a drop of wine and waited for her to approve the vintage. She sipped delicately, considered a moment, then nodded. He filled her glass, then bowed. “Will there be anything else, milady?”

“Not tonight, Marcus,” she replied lazily. “You may retire. Leave the dishes, you can collect them in the morning.”

He bowed again. “As you wish, milady. Enjoy your evening.”

She ignored his departure, taking knife and fork and starting on her fish. My stomach rumbled again as I watched her. How long had it been since I had last eaten? I tried to remember, but the smells were maddening, and only reminded my stomach that it had been far too long. There was still plenty of food left in the serving dishes, but I had little hope that any of it would come my way, not when my captor was clearly finding my hunger entertaining. Perhaps she was hoping I would break down and beg. I snorted softly, inwardly vowing that she could heap that table with every delicacy under the sun and stuff her face all she liked, I would starve to death before I uttered such a plea. My empty stomach gave another pathetic gurgle in protest, and I told it sternly to shut up.

A smirk played about her lips again, as though she knew exactly what I was thinking. I resolutely averted my eyes from her feast, and tried to ease my aching arms, methodically tensing and relaxing muscles to prevent cramping. As quietly as I could, I shifted around, trying in vain to find a comfortable position, but the chains were positioned in such a way that if I stood, I was forced to hunch over, but if I sat down, my arms were stretched too high over my head for comfort. Finally I settled for a squat, bracing my back against the wall, then settled in to wait. Tanya had to sleep sometime, I reasoned. As soon as those all-seeing eyes were closed in slumber, I would send my shadow creeping through the base to find the children. Once I knew their location, I could find a way to force this metal monstrosity to the surface, with luck sabotaging it so that it would be stuck there for a while, but at the very least ensure it emerged long enough for me to free the children and myself, steal a transport, and get us the hell out of here.

Confident in my plan, I waited patiently, feigning bored disinterest while Tanya lingered over her meal. It was almost entertaining how ostentatious she made every bite, slowly rolling the food around her mouth as though to emphasise how delicious it was. I supressed the urge to snigger at her theatrics, however; I had no desire to be on the receiving end of that whip.

Eventually, she seemed to tire of the game. Leaving the table, she vanished into the shadowy depths on the far side of the room, where I had caught sight of the strange wall of glass rectangles. I could hear her pottering around, and surreptitiously attempted to peer in that direction to see what she was doing, but my view was mostly blocked by the bookcases, and the faint sounds of her activity were difficult to differentiate over the closer crackling of the fire. The firepit must be gas-fed from below, I decided, for the blaze showed no sign of dying down despite no-one adding fuel.

A couple of hours ticked by uneventfully, other than my steadily increasing discomfort. Finally, surely long past midnight, she wandered back towards me. Pausing next to the sideboard, she studied me for a moment, then selected a taller glass this time and filled it from a jug. Stepping close to me, she held the glass before my face.

“You must be thirsty,” she said softly.

I eyed it suspiciously, but as far as I could tell, it was just water. And I _was_ thirsty, almost unbearably so. My throat still felt caked in ash from the Bartons’ burning home, and gritty from dry, recycled air. I glowered, half-suspecting she would dash the water in my face or pour it on the floor out of pure spite, and didn’t answer.

With a faint smile, she put the glass to my lips. Surprised, I couldn’t help myself, I was so parched the moment the water touched my tongue I started drinking. She held the glass steady while I drained it dry, still with that suggestion of a smile. Then she set the empty glass aside, and almost absent-mindedly stroked my hair back from my face, tucking a stray lock behind my ear. I swallowed, disconcerted by her gentleness. Despite my best efforts, my skin warmed to her familiar touch.

Her smile widened, and she stepped closer still, bending her head to press her lips to my neck, and I bit my lip as she nuzzled behind my ear, just as she used to. The tantalising gesture transported me momentarily to another time, and I could almost believe we were back in the Red Room, that she was the same young woman who had been so eager to please. Her hand lightly caressed my breast, and my body responded without my consent. My breathing quickened, my skin flushed, and my nipple turned hard and hot beneath her palm.

“Talia,” she whispered.

“Yes?” I murmured back without thinking.

I felt her lips curve against my neck. “Talia,” she whispered again. “It’s time for you to go to sleep.”

“What?” I recoiled with a jolt, but it was too late, even if I could have gotten away from her. A sharp scratch stung my breast where she had been caressing. Peering down as she backed away, I swore as I saw the tiny red cut just above my nipple. I turned my glare on her, and she smirked as she cleaned a drop of my blood from her pointed thumbnail.

“Oh I don’t always go green,” she drawled, and displayed her long fingers, her nails glistening with almost invisible clear varnish. “Sometimes I like to go for something more subtle, you know?”

I growled, furiously inarticulate, my vision already blurring. My knees gave way, and I sagged in my chains.

“Why?” I managed, fighting the black circles spinning before my eyes.

She lowered herself to one knee beside me and stroked my hair again, almost tenderly. “Talia dear, do you think I learned nothing from you? Lesson number fourteen - ‘Never, ever embark on a mission without an exit strategy.’ I am not fool enough to think you came here without a plan, and I’m not so arrogant as to think these chains will stop you. So, as I’m sure you’re simply waiting for me to fall asleep before perpetrating some outrageously original attempt to sabotage my operation before escaping, I’m taking precautions.” She rose gracefully. “Don’t fight it,” she advised. “It will only make you feel worse tomorrow.”

I tried to hurl an expletive, but my lips were already numb. _Damn_ , I thought blearily, as darkness descended. And then _, I hope the children are alright, because freeing them is going to take longer than I thought._


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha receives an unexpected visitor.

Somewhere in my feverish dreams, I still had hopes that I could salvage something of my plan. Whatever Tanya had drugged me with, my over-efficient metabolism should ensure it wore off far sooner than she should have anticipated. I fully expected, as I dragged my gritty eyelids open, to find the room in darkness, and my captor sleeping soundly.

To my surprise and annoyance, the lights were on, and my first glance towards the bed revealed it was empty. It showed unmistakable signs of being slept in; the covers thrown back, the pillows rumpled, but Tanya was already up and dressed and once more pottering around in the mysterious area with the glass cases. She ignored my signs of wakefulness, intent on whatever she was doing. The remains of last night’s meal were also gone, indicating that Marcus had recommenced his duties. Clearly, many hours had passed, not the one or two I had anticipated.

Confused and alarmed as to why her tactics had been so effective, I nonetheless found I couldn’t spare the mystery much attention just then. As I came fully awake, the consequences of my uncomfortable night made themselves felt, and I had to choke down an audible moan of misery. My upper body was agony from hours in such an unnatural position; my lower body was numb from the hard floor; my head ached from the drugs and the knock I had received yesterday; I was cold, thirsty, hungry, and if all that wasn’t enough, I desperately needed to urinate.

I tried to catch Tanya’s eye, but she was now seated at an enormous oak desk, busily writing, ignoring me. I held on in increasing discomfort for a while, but after another hour or so went by and she never so much as glanced in my direction, I was left with no choice. The best I could do was to lean as far to the side as possible, so as to avoid having to squat directly in my own filth.

 _And if she’s offended by me pissing on her floor, then she should have thought of that before she left me chained to the wall all night_ , I thought spitefully.

She didn’t seem to notice anything at first, engrossed in whatever she was doing, but after a couple of minutes the sharp new odour in the room appeared to reach her. I saw her nostrils flare, and she swivelled in her chair. Her eyes flicked to me, then the floor beside my feet, and I nearly laughed at her look of shocked disgust. She scowled and made a swift motion with her hand; a hologrammatic screen instantly appeared in the air before her, and she jabbed irritably at a call button.

Almost immediately, Marcus knocked and entered, carrying a steaming cup.

“Your tea, milady,” he said in his slow, ponderous voice, setting the cup down at her right hand. “Was there something else?”

She just pointed. “Deal with that.”

He turned and assessed the situation without the slightest change in expression. “At once, milady.” He turned smartly on his heel and tapped away through the double doors.

Tanya went back to her writing.

A few minutes later, Marcus was back. He had the sleeves of his immaculate suit rolled up, and carried a bucket in each hand. I stifled a snigger as he got down on hands and knees and proceeded to scrub the floor, but my urge to laugh quickly turned to outrage as he then did the same to me, cleansing me efficiently and with as much interest as if he were scrubbing a chair or a table. He then placed the second bucket, which was empty, beside me on the floor. I needed no instructions as to what he expected me to do with it.

I scowled. “Thanks,” I said, the word dripping with sarcasm.

He did not respond. It was as though I was part of the furniture, like a radiator that had sprung a leak. He rolled his sleeves back down and adjusted his silver cufflinks with quick, economical movements before returning to Tanya’s side.

“The situation is dealt with, milady,” he informed her pompously. “Are you sure you wouldn’t care for a spot of breakfast?”

“Not today, Marcus,” she replied absently, still scribbling away. “I want to finish this before my meeting.”

“Very good, milady. Will there be anything else?”

“Not now.”

He bowed, retrieved his bucket of wash-water and departed.

Tanya wrote steadily for a while longer, then seemed to finish whatever it was she was working on, setting her pen down with a flourish. I waited, impatient for her to leave for the meeting she had mentioned, but she unhurriedly finished her tea, staring pensively into space. She seemed different this morning. More human somehow, as though the viper within her had subsided for the time being.

I watched her in silence, internally wrestling with myself. As much as I strove to see her as the enemy, as much as my abused body protested her treatment and my memory raged at the harsh tactics she had used to get me here, still I could not help but see the young woman I had known and loved and hurt so deeply.

Finally, I could no longer bear the ache inside. “Tanya?” I ventured quietly. “Can we talk? Please?”

She didn’t look at me, but her voice sounded almost melancholy. “I have nothing to say to you.”

I eyed her warily, but she showed no sign of rage, her expression distant, as though her thoughts were far away.

“Tanya,” I tried again, keeping my voice soft. “Tanya, I didn’t want to leave you. I had planned to take you with me, but… stuff happened, and I had no choice. It _killed_ me to leave you there.”

She carefully placed her cup down. “Did it now? Then tell me, Talia. If it distressed you so much to leave me behind, why did you never come back for me?”

“I couldn’t.”

Now she turned, sharply, and with a feeling of dread I saw the bitter fury rekindle in her eyes. “You couldn’t?” she repeated, almost spitting the word. “Why not? What could possibly prevent you?”

I grimaced, despairing of ever being able to explain. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

She surged to her feet and stalked towards me like an avenging goddess. “Enough of your games,” she hissed, thrusting her face close to mine. She raised a warning finger. “One more word, and I’ll beat you senseless!”

My own temper abruptly flared. “Well you’re too late!” I snarled back. “You really think anything you can do to me is going to be worse than what _he_ did?”

Tanya stiffened, her body going rigid as her rage was momentarily diverted. “I had nothing to do with that,” she said after a pause.

I calmed, and nodded. “I know.”

She slowly stepped back. While her anger still smouldered, I sensed the main part of it was no longer directed at me. Her eyes narrowed, she studied me intently, her expression now carefully blank. “How badly were you injured?” she asked finally.

I snorted. “Why do you care?”

She bared her teeth. “Just answer the question!”

I rolled my eyes, but did as she commanded with a harsh, bitter edge to my voice. “Badly enough. I had severe internal bleeding, a lot of broken bones, and two ribs puncturing my lungs. I almost died. My friends had to defibrillate me, and then I was in a coma for days. It took me some time to recover.” I neglected to mention that it took far less time than it ought to have done, thanks to Melanie.

Her fists clenched, a muscle ticking in her jaw, and she turned away. “I’m sorry for what you suffered. It should not have happened.”

“Well it did,” I snapped back, too sore to be amazed that she had just apologised to me. “And you can’t feel that bad about it, or you wouldn’t be so keen to put me through it again!” I jangled my chains angrily for emphasis.

A shiver ran through her.

“What do you even want from me, Tanya?” I demanded. “Do you want me to suffer? Is that what you want? Go ahead. Get your goddamn whip and beat me bloody! Do whatever you like, beat me, torture me, give me to every man on this base, it doesn’t matter. There is no agony you can inflict on me that I haven’t been through before.” Striving to remain in control, I lowered my voice. “You can’t cause me any more pain than I’m in already. Nothing I’ve ever been through even came _close_ to how much it hurt to lose you.”

Her shoulders trembled. Her fists were clenched so tight the knuckles were white.

“I thought you were dead. I mourned you. I cried more tears over you than I ever dreamed I was capable of shedding. I _hated_ myself for leaving you, for being unable to save you. And when I finally realised you were alive, the monster you’d become… It tore me apart. It’s _still_ tearing me apart.”

She didn’t move.

I fell wearily silent, giving up. I wasn’t sure why I had even bothered trying. My sore head pounded as I flexed my cramping shoulders. If her goal was to make me suffer, I had to admit she was succeeding. Logically, I knew I had endured greater misery than this, but it was hard to remember that at the moment. My entire body shook with cold and muscle spasms, my thirst was becoming intolerable again, and my empty stomach felt like it was trying to wrap itself around my spine.

Abruptly, with a strange sound, as though she bit back a curse, Tanya whirled. I barely had time to register that her hand now held a small key, before she reached towards my left wrist. There was a click, and my arm fell free. Astonishment was eclipsed by agony, my muscles protesting violently at being moved after spending so long in one position. I bit back a groan of mixed pain and relief as my other arm was released, dropping to my knees.

“ _I am not a monster_ ,” she snarled.

Stalking away, tossing the key down on the sideboard, she rummaged in her huge wardrobe, producing a silk robe identical to the one she had worn the night before, but black. Striding back to where I lay gasping and prone on the floor, she tossed it down in front of me.

“There’s water in the jug,” she said tightly, as I stared up at her blankly, unable to process my sudden freedom. “I’ll send Marcus with some food. Do not leave this room.”

I gaped at her in disbelief. After all that rigmarole last night, rendering me unconscious so that I couldn’t make mischief while she slept, she was now just going to leave me here, unrestrained and unguarded?

My thoughts must have showed on my face, because she leaned down towards me, her expression turning menacing. “Be warned, Talia. This changes nothing. You are still my prisoner. If you set one foot outside this room, I will know, and those children of yours will suffer the consequences.”

I pressed my lips together, biting back a surge of anger at the unwelcome reminder of why I was here. I inwardly berated myself for becoming soft. My feelings were getting in the way of what was important; no matter how much I personally regretted the fact, this woman was the enemy. Somewhere in the depths of this base were four terrified children whose only crime had been to be born to my friends. “If you hurt them, you will regret it,” I warned her through clenched teeth.

Tanya straightened up. “Perhaps,” she replied coldly. “But not nearly as much as you will. So don’t push me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to see to.” She turned on her heel, scooping up her mask before sweeping out of the room. The click of the doors snapping shut behind her reminded me ominously of the cocking of a shotgun.

It took some time before I could take advantage of my sudden freedom. For a while, all I could do was huddle on the floor, my abused limbs riddled with excruciating cramps. I gritted my teeth and persevered, patiently tensing and relaxing muscles, until slowly my arms and legs began to feel like they actually belonged to me again. Sitting up painfully, rubbing my arms, I glared in loathing at the empty chains dangling from the wall. Silently, I vowed that I would fight to the death before I submitted to that foul iron embrace again. Then I torturously felt for the robe Tanya had left, and pulled it on, nearly groaning in relief. It felt ridiculously good to be able to cover myself; by this point I would have been grateful for an old sack with neck and arm-holes, just to feel less exposed, but the silk was smooth and warm and felt delicious sliding over my chilled skin.

Shivering, I hauled myself to my feet, and stumbled to the jug of water, pouring myself a large glass that I downed in two gulps. Helping myself to more, emptying the jug, I staggered painfully over to the fire. I huddled next to it, biting back whimpers of renewed agony as the chill released its grip on my body with great reluctance, the burning sensation causing my muscles to cramp all over again. Eventually, however, the warmth penetrated to my bones, my muscles ceased to protest, and I had to force myself to move before I fell asleep.

I spent some time carefully stretching, working the stiffness from my battered muscles, feeling a little better as the water I had drunk filtered through my body, combating the effects of dehydration. The worst of my discomfort eased, my mind cleared, and I settled beside the fire again to consider my options.

My plan would still work, I decided, with a few modifications. Tanya was almost certainly still ignorant of the specifics of my new abilities, or she would never have left me alone. I supposed there was always the possibility that she had cameras poised to see what I would do with my freedom, but I doubted it, not within her private quarters. She was no doubt relying on surveillance or guards or both outside the doors to alert her if I attempted to leave, but I had no intention of physically crossing that portal. Not yet, not until I had ascertained the location of the children, and determined a means of getting them to safety. For the moment, provided I continued an appearance of cooperation, the children were probably safe, safer than they would be if they attempted an escape without me. The discovery that the entire base could move complicated matters considerably. It was difficult to gauge how long I had been here, and I had no idea how fast this monstrosity was, nor how deep it could dive. For all I knew, we could be in the middle of the Atlantic, deep in some ocean trench, or lurking mere miles from shore. Until I could figure out which, escape was not an option. In any case, even if I managed to free them, their chances of survival without me were nil, and for the moment, I could see no way to free myself without endangering them. That might change, depending on what I found when I sent my shadow creeping through the base to scout. Assuming I could invoke the shadow at all. I tried very hard not to dwell on the fact that I was relying heavily on an ability I had only recently gained any control over and had had no opportunity to practice. I was determined that it would work; there was no other choice.

I scowled, rubbing my arms as I glared at the flames. Tempting though it was to get started immediately, caution was called for. I couldn’t risk anyone discovering what I could do. The only way to be sure the children wouldn’t get hurt was to give their captor no reason to harm them, which meant playing a dangerous game. Tanya had to think I was playing by her rules, had to think she was getting exactly what she wanted from me.

The question was, what _did_ she want from me? I shook my head. I was damned if I knew. She had gone to so much trouble to get me here, and yet her behaviour towards me since my surrender had been bewilderingly erratic. If she had simply wanted revenge, she could have submitted me to any number of horrendous torments by now. She could have had me beaten, tortured, raped; she could have wielded that whip on me last night just as easily as on Luella. She hadn’t, and now, driven apparently by guilt over my previous treatment at the hands of her henchmen, she had released me, given me the run of her private quarters, dressed me in her own clothing, even promised to feed me. The woman was as contrary as a summer storm, impossible to predict. I felt intensely frustrated, as though I had been dumped in the middle of a labyrinth, and was wandering in circles, continually returning to the same spot. Every time I thought I had deciphered her strategy, she set off in a seemingly unrelated direction. Why had she devoted so much energy to luring me out, instead of attacking as we had all expected? If she didn’t simply want personal revenge, what possible use was I to her? If her ultimate goal was world domination, she was taking a most peculiar route towards achieving it. It was as though the game board was as yet incomplete, as though there were pieces she still needed, and somehow I was one of them…

I shook my head, weary of speculation. _Concentrate on things you can fix_ , I told myself firmly. _First things first. You need to find the children. For that, you need your shadow. And for that, you need your strength back. You need that food she promised._ My stomach giving another pathetic growl at the reminder, I scowled, hoping she really would deliver on her promise. Using my new abilities was so physically taxing, I dreaded to think of the toll on my body if I tried it in my current condition, but at the same time, I was loath to delay my attempt too long. I had no idea how long Tanya would be about her ‘business’, or if I would ever have an opportunity like this again if I missed it. But equally, I couldn’t risk the strange little butler walking in on me.

Resigned to waiting for the man to turn up, at least for a while, I turned my attention my surroundings. This was certainly the most luxurious prison cell I had ever had, I mused absently. I was a little wary of exploring, not particularly relishing the idea of Tanya catching me going through her things, but if she had been worried about me finding anything, she wouldn’t have left me here alone. Either there was nothing of any significance here for me to find, or she was so confident that I would never escape to use that information she didn’t care what I found. I grimaced to myself. It was hardly a thought to fill me with optimism. Looking around, I decided to see what she had been so busy with in the far corner all morning. Threading my way through the furniture, I made my way towards the curious wall of glass cases.

Movement caught my eye, making me pause, before I cautiously moved closer.

Once I rounded the bookcases, it was clear that this section of the room was not just a study, but a lab. My brows rose as I glanced over several tables set with a bewildering array of scientific equipment. The scent of chemicals was strong and acidic, and I didn’t care to investigate the contents of any of the glass containers too closely. I wasn’t certain of the function of most of the apparatus, but I had seen Melanie and Bruce tinkering with similar arrays often enough to know some fairly complex chemical processes were being utilised.

I searched for the source of the movement I had seen, then leaned closer to the wall in fascination as I realised what I was looking at. The glass rectangles were tanks, dozens of them, each housing living creatures. I glanced curiously over the collection. Many of the tanks contained snakes in a range of sizes and colours, but I also counted several species of small, brightly coloured frogs; a variety of spiders; two grumpy-looking lizards; and three different types of scorpion. There was even a large tank filled with water, in which swam some of the ugliest fish I had ever seen in my life, covered in lethal-looking spines.

There was a hiss, and a large cobra reared its head in one of the nearest tanks, flaring its hood menacingly. I recoiled slightly, profoundly thankful for the glass between myself and it. I eyed its long fangs, and the dark stain visible at the tips. The presence of the creatures, and the chemistry apparatus, immediately became apparent.

“Very clever, Tanya,” I murmured in unwilling appreciation. Obviously, these creatures were all poisonous. Safely immune from their effects, she was using the animals to create bespoke poisons of her own, toxins that no-one could possibly have an antidote to, then further distilling them into the varnish that she painted on her nails. That also answered the question of how she had managed to keep me unconscious so long, despite my super-fast metabolism. She must have known about my enhanced tolerance for toxins, and concocted something specifically designed to combat it. I pulled a face, disturbed at the thought that the mixture my system had taken all night to break down must have easily been potent enough to kill an ordinary person. Perhaps several times over.

I wandered over to the desk and glanced over the neatly stacked notes I had seen her making that morning. I was presented with pages upon pages of what looked like utter gibberish. I flicked through the sheets with a feeling of grudging admiration as I realised why they looked so incomprehensible. Her notes were comprised of, not a code, but a complex combination of different languages; more than a dozen of them if I judged accurately. I recognised a few words of Russian, French, Italian and even Latin amongst the jumble, but the rest were in tongues I was unfamiliar with, and even the few words I could decipher gave me little clue as to the overall meaning. Melanie or Bruce might have been able to surmise something from the equations and formulae scattered through the text, but I was clueless.

I shook my head ruefully. Yet again I struggled to wrap my head around the sheer power and versatility of Tanya’s incredible memory. I doubted there was a single other person in the world with both the facility with languages and the scientific knowledge to understand her notes; they would take days to translate even with the aid of a computer. 

The number of languages displayed shouldn’t have surprised me, nor her apparent mastery of advanced chemistry. Scholarship was hardly a challenge for her, with her perfect recall, and she had already been in possession of a mind-boggling array of languages even at the age of eighteen. I remembered my disbelief, back in the Red Room, at her idle claim that she was fluent in twenty tongues in addition to her native Russian. I had doubted her, convinced that not even _her_ brain could possibly achieve such a feat, right up until the point she had demonstrated by translating a passage randomly chosen from a book into all twenty languages, one after the other, while I checked her using powerful translation software. She hadn’t made a single mistake. She had laughed at my astounded reaction, and asked me playfully which language I thought she should learn next. Still reeling, I had finally suggested Italian, the only one of the seven tongues I myself possessed that she currently lacked. She had nodded seriously, then proceeded to distract me quite thoroughly with a demonstration of an entirely different set of oral skills. Three days later, however, she had stunned me once again by addressing me in perfect Italian, and continuing to converse with me in that language for over an hour as easily as though it was her mother tongue.

I shook off the memory, firmly pushing aside the twinge of nostalgia, reminding myself that that playful, brilliant girl was long gone. I had to accept that, and deal with the evil genius that girl had become. I stacked the notes neatly back the way I had found them and continued my search, with due caution for the delicate arrays of equipment containing unknown chemicals. But its presence did raise the disturbing question of why she needed Goravitch, when clearly she was more than capable of performing whatever experiments he was conducting herself. Perhaps her interests were exclusively limited to poisons, I mused with another distasteful glance over the apparatus, or perhaps she was simply too busy with other matters to attend to the time-consuming task of creating her mutant soldiers. Terrorising her small empire must take up a substantial amount of time, I thought bitterly, perhaps that was why she delegated the task to Goravitch.

The thought that he was close by set my teeth on edge, even though, if I had decoded last night’s cryptic discussion with the Night Master correctly, Tanya was going to some trouble to keep my presence from him. Suddenly the gleaming laboratory equipment appeared sinister, a feeling heightened by the slithering and skittering coming from the glass cases. Irritably, I went back to searching the desk, hunting for a way to access the computer with its hologrammatic screen I had seen her use earlier. The desk appeared completely empty except for her notes and a carved wooden desk-tidy with assorted stationary, and despite running my hands over every inch of the wood, I could find no concealed access points or secret compartments. Nor could I get into either of the two drawers; they were sealed shut, but I could find no locks to pick, no hidden catches, nothing. Short of smashing the desk to pieces, I could see no way to get into it. Finally, I gave up in disgust.

Abandoning my exploration of the work area for the time being, I headed for the bathing area instead. Behind a screen, I found a far more comfortable alternative to the bucket, then took the opportunity to clean myself up, stripping off and sponging away the grime and soot that still streaked my body from crawling through the Barton’s burning home. My hands trembled with fury at the memory.

It was easier now, without the woman’s physical presence to confuse me, to think of Tanya as the enemy, to let hatred for what she had done override any feeling of compassion. With a pang, I imagined how my friends must be feeling. Bad enough to regain consciousness to discover yourself so badly wounded, and your home gone, but to wake up to be told your children were in the hands of a psychopath? I could barely conceive how devastated Laura and Clint must feel. And Pepper, to have to face losing her only child so close to the second anniversary of her husband’s death… I swallowed hard, and my jaw tightened with resolve. I silently vowed that, no matter what the cost, I would return my friends’ children to them.

Robing myself once more in Tanya’s black silk, I was about to continue my exploration of the room when the sound of the door opening made me pause, expecting to see Marcus arriving with the meal I had been promised.

Instead of the gleam of polished patent leather and silver cufflinks, however, a short, pale-haired figure slipped inside, closing the door behind her. She looked so different, in the same black and green Hydra uniform the guards had worn, it took me a moment to recognise her.

“Luella?” I exclaimed in surprise.

The woman jumped, my voice coming from an unexpected direction. Her dark eyes went immediately to the chains, and she paled, finding them empty. Her gaze flicked over the rest of the room, and widened as they came to rest upon me, standing unfettered beside the firepit. She tensed, clenching her fists, her weight shifting in a manner I instantly recognised.

I quickly raised my hands, palms spread. She watched me suspiciously as I slowly backed away a few paces. “Calm down. I’m not going to fight you.”

She didn’t move. “How did you escape those chains?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t. She released me.” I ventured a faint smile as her brows rose sceptically. “I’m not Houdini you know.”

She pursed her lips. Something sparked in her eyes as she took in the robe I was wearing, then glanced at the unmade bed. Her face flushed, and this time her shift of weight was unmistakably aggressive.

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?” I demanded, keeping my voice low but indignant. “After what she did to you last night, you’re actually _jealous_?”

That seemed to give her pause. Her eyes narrowed. She held my gaze for a long moment, as though considering, then slowly relaxed her stance. “Did she hurt you?” she asked eventually.

I eyed her curiously, unsure what prompted the question, or what answer she was hoping for. “No,” I replied honestly. “Other than scratching me with those stupid nails of hers and knocking me out for the night, she hasn’t done anything to me. Certainly not what you’re thinking. She spent most of this morning ignoring me.”

I thought I detected a hint of relief, and a slight lessening of hostility. Her possessiveness seemed a little absurd, considering how badly she had been treated.

She scowled, as though sensing my thoughts. “And then she just decided to set you loose?” she asked suspiciously. “Just like that?”

I shrugged in unfeigned weariness. “I imagine you’re more familiar with her mood swings than I am. Don’t ask me to explain why she does anything.” I slowly lowered my hands, then, when she made no further move, carefully sat down in one of the chairs by the fire, studying her all the while. She didn’t seem any worse for wear for her beating the night before, but some lingering guilt made me ask, “Are _you_ alright?”

She looked slightly surprised, but waved off my concern. “I’m fine. A few scratches, nothing major. I’ve had worse.”

I raised a dubious eyebrow. I didn’t see why she would lie, but if she was telling the truth, then she was a very good actress. Certainly her cries of pain had sounded real enough to my ears.

Luella shrugged, smiling faintly at my doubtful expression. “Like you said, I know her moods. I’ve been with her a very long time. Long enough to know how to manage her when she has one of her violent fits. My advice is to give her an excuse sooner rather than later, let her vent off that rage before she gets worked up too far, and don’t hold back for the sake of pride. Scream as though it’s the worst pain you’ve ever endured, and as long as you’re convincing, she’ll get horny enough to move on to the sex before you take permanent damage.”

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “I’ll bear that in mind,” I said sourly.

She shrugged again. “I expected a lot worse, to be honest, with you there. All things considered, it really went quite well.”

I supressed a flinch. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She snorted, dropping gracefully into the chair across from me. “Yes you do. There’s no point denying it. I know you were lovers, back when she was your apprentice. I know you ran off to the Americans, and left her behind. You were the love of her life, and you betrayed her.”

I gritted my teeth, and she smirked. “Oh don’t worry, your affair isn’t common knowledge. Her inclinations are no secret anymore, but very few know the truth about why she calls you the Betrayer. You hurt her deeply. I doubt she’ll ever forgive you.”

“What makes you think I want forgiveness?” I responded with as much scorn as I could muster, smothering the stab of pain her words inflicted. “You think I want her back? Is that why you’re here, to warn me off?” I barked a mocking laugh. “You’re insane if you think I want anything to do with her. Call me old fashioned, but chaining me to a wall doesn’t really get me going, no matter what it does for you. I have no intention of becoming her sex slave; you can keep that honour all to yourself.”

She stiffened. “I am not her slave!” she hissed, outraged. “I am a _specialist_!”

Surprised by her fierceness, I mulled that over for a minute, putting together the events of the last day or so with what Viktoria had told me. I remembered the day I had questioned her in the quarantine cubicle, the discussion we had had about incentives, and her description of the group that had been responsible for them, the specialists who, according to Viktoria, really enjoyed their jobs. I had privately doubted it, mentally placing those so-called specialists in the same category as the common whores found in brothels around the world. And yet… this woman was certainly nothing like the poor, ignorant wretches I had seen in such places; at least, not today. Last night had been a different story, she had seemed meek and submissive, but now she had a certain arrogance about her, an unconscious pride in herself and her own worth. I wondered which façade was the real one. Perhaps they were both an act. One thing was clear however, this woman was certainly no common whore. In fact, the more I studied her, the less I could find anything whatsoever common about her.

“I see,” I said eventually, resolving to tread more carefully. “You’re one of the team Viktoria told me about. The ones who specialise in providing incentives.” I rolled my eyes. “It figures.”

The woman tensed again, eyes flashing, and I smothered a groan. She was pricklier than a porcupine. “It figures,” I continued smoothly, “that the Night Master would be the one running that show. I wondered why she let him live. But I can see his particular skill set would be an advantage in that arena – although I imagine he’s getting a bit long in the tooth to participate personally.”

Luella relaxed slightly and chuckled. “Oh you’d be surprised. He still keeps his hand in, although he mainly sees to the training of the specialists, rather than dealing with actual clients. Few can match his skills in the arts of pleasure.”

Privately, I thought Melanie could give him a run for his money, but I kept that thought to myself. “I remember,” I said instead.

She chuckled again. “Yes, I imagine you do. You were one of his, weren’t you?” She winked. “So was I.” Her eyes took on a far-away look. “He still talks about that time quite often, the days before the specialists came into being. I think he sometimes misses being the only rooster in the henhouse.” She came back to the present, and eyed me speculatively. “You were one of his favourites. I think he was nearly as angry as Tanya when you ran off to the Americans. He prides himself on judging people accurately, but your defection was a total shock. He hates you for that.”

Disregarding the Night Master’s feelings as irrelevant, I instead focussed with some surprise on what else she had revealed.

She smiled patronisingly. “What, you think you’re the only one who knows her by that name? Far from it. Believe it or not, there are plenty of people who have never met her as Viper, only as Lady Tanya Green.” Her smile became a smirk. “ _I’m_ the only one who gets to drop the title.”

“Congratulations,” I said sarcastically, annoyed by her superior attitude. “You get to call her by her name. Totally worth being flayed alive every other night.” Inwardly, I reviewed what I had just learned. The mask didn’t just allow Tanya to hide her identity, it enabled her to take on completely different ones – the formidable figure of Viper, who ruled through ruthlessness, fear and intimidation, and the presumably more benign personage of ‘Lady Tanya Green’, someone who could exercise her considerable talents of charm, manipulation and persuasion. A simple but effective ploy, and one that no doubt many people had fallen for as thoroughly as Viktoria had.

Luella raised an eyebrow at my sarcasm. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it,” she mused. Her gaze was speculative.

I had to drag my thoughts back to what we had been discussing, then I scowled. Of course the abuse bothered me. Did she think I _enjoyed_ being forced to watch her being beaten half to death? “ _I’m_ not a monster!” I retorted stiffly.

Her gaze sharpened, but again she seemed more curious than offended. “Monster,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Is that what you think she is?”

“What else would you call her?” I said bitterly. “What else would you call someone who slaughters innocents, murders babies, and burns down someone’s home with them inside? What else would you call someone who kidnaps children just so she can have the pleasure of chaining me to a wall and making me watch her torture people?” Anger and resentment swelled in my chest, testing my composure.

She pursed her lips, and nodded slightly to herself, not agreeing with me, but as though I had just confirmed some suspicion she had held. “Are you here to kill her?” she asked.

The frank question surprised me into a slight wince. I had been trying not to think about that. Logically, I knew if an opportunity came to kill Tanya without harming the children, for my friends’ sake and the sake of the world, I should take it. That was what the assassin would do, what the Avenger would do. Neutralise the threat. Cut off the snake’s head, and it could no longer strike those I loved, could no longer threaten those I had sworn to protect. That was my duty, to protect the world from her evil… and yet, the thought of closing those green eyes forever, of that incredible brain stuttering to a halt, of her perfect skin growing clammy and cold in death… the thought made me feel physically ill.

Though I strove to hide it, Luella noted my reaction. “So,” she mused. “You _do_ still care for her.” When I didn’t deny it, she cocked her head on one side. “Then why did you leave her? Why did you never come back?”

I permitted myself a small sigh. “It’s complicated.”

She raised her brows. “I’m sure I can keep up.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure you could, but I’m not going to tell you. It’s none of your business.”

“Isn’t it?” She stood up abruptly and turned her back to me, raising her clothing to flaunt the view of the bandages across her back. “I beg to differ!”

Feeling a pang of guilt at the reminder that I had been at least indirectly responsible for her thrashing, I nonetheless set my chin stubbornly.

“I think you should leave,” I said coldly. “Marcus is coming with food at some point. You shouldn’t be found here.” Quite aside from wanting rid of the woman, I rather dreaded to imagine the consequences of her being discovered here. If Tanya had flogged her last night, merely for _noticing_ my presence, what would she do when she found out Luella had sneaked in here to talk to me while she was out? I had no desire to watch the woman die writhing in agony!

Luella seemed unruffled, smiling enigmatically as though my words merely strengthened whatever suicidal hunch she was acting on, and sat down again. “Oh its too late for that. She’ll already know I’m here.”

I stared at her. “Do you have some kind of death wish?” I demanded. “Why would you risk coming here? Do you _like_ being tortured?”

“Hardly,” the woman replied, rolling her eyes. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A suicidal one, from where I’m standing!”

“I prefer to think of it as judicious risk-taking,” Luella demurred. “A successful interrogation yielding valuable intelligence will more than compensate for my defiance.”

I tensed. “I’m not telling you anything.”

She chuckled. “On the contrary, you’ve already told me a great deal. I know you still care for Tanya, and that it pained you deeply to see what she did to me last night. I’m willing to bet you’d do almost anything not to have to watch what she’ll do to me this time.”

I swallowed, feeling sick. “I can’t say I relish the idea,” I admitted. I narrowed my eyes at her. “But I value my friends, and my duty, far more than I do your life I’m afraid. I don’t _want_ to watch her torture you… but I will. I won’t betray my friends, not even to save your life.”

Luella nodded. “And I expected no less. However, if it were possible to compromise… if you could spare us both the ordeal of what will come _without_ hurting your friends, would you do it?”

I pursed my lips, studying her intently. She was good, I decided, but I noted the slight sheen of nervous sweat on her upper lip, and a lurking worry tugging at the corners of her eyes. She really is gambling with her life, I thought, a little stunned. She walked in here on the mere hunch that I found watching her being hurt distasteful enough to entice me to talk, despite _knowing_ what would happen if I proved unmoved by her plight. I had to admire her courage, but the more pressing question was, w _hy_? Why would she do such a thing?

I decided to call her bluff. “Sorry,” I said coldly. “But you made your bed. You chose to provoke her, you’ll just have to take the consequences.”

Luella shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you’re lucky, you’ll only have to watch. Of course, if she’s really, really mad, she might make you participate. She does that sometimes. Of course, I’m sure you’ve got a strong stomach, and you’ve tortured people before, right? No big deal.”

I swallowed, the gorge rising in my throat. Surely not! Surely even Viper had limits to her depravity… and yet, she had me by the metaphorical short-horns. All she had to do was threaten the children, and I knew I would do whatever she ordered. Even if it meant torturing this woman to death with my own hand.

Luella heaved a theatrical sigh, and stood up to leave.

“Wait.”

She glanced at me, artfully innocent. She had balls, I had to give her that. She deserved as much of a chance as I could afford give her.

“Sit down,” I muttered gruffly. “We’ll talk. I can’t promise I’ll tell you anything that will convince her not to kill you. But we can talk, if that’s what you want.”

She smiled triumphantly. “It’s a start,” she replied, settling herself back in her chair. “And seen as I’m feeling charitable, I’m not opposed to the idea of giving you a little something in return. Nothing that would help you hurt those _I_ care about, you understand.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“How about this?” she offered confidently. “I’ll ask you my questions, and you can ask me yours. You don’t have to answer if you think you’ll give too much away, and the same goes for me, but if we do answer, we agree to tell the complete truth. Sound fair?”

I studied her dubiously, but, though I examined it from a dozen angles, I could find no catch to her offer. If she did indeed answer my questions truthfully, even if she revealed nothing of major consequence, I would still know more about the enemy than I did before. And I could see no way she could trick me into revealing anything I shouldn’t, I was far too experienced in interrogation, and as much as I loathed the thought, I would kill her with my own hands before I betrayed my friends.

“Deal,” I agreed cautiously. I folded my arms. “But I get to go first.”


	3. 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Hydra do conduct interrogations over eggs.

Luella seemed completely unperturbed by my insistence. “Fine,” she said cheerfully, settling herself comfortably. “Shoot. What do you want to know?”

I pursed my lips, studying her suspiciously. “Where are we?” I asked eventually, testing. “Can you tell me that?”

The woman brightened. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll show you. Watch.” She sprang to her feet and trotted over to the desk. Puzzled, followed her. I watched her swipe the back of her hand over a specific spot towards the top right corner of the surface, then blinked in surprise as the hologrammatic screen I had searched in vain for a way to activate earlier materialised above the desk.

“How did you do that?” I exclaimed, annoyed.

Luella laughed. “Access chip’s implanted in my knuckle,” she told me, showing me her hand. “There are only three people who have it; Tanya, obviously, me, and Marcus.”

I took a step closer, the spy in me quickly weighing risk versus reward. One swift move, and Luella would be out cold, leaving me free to investigate…

Luella chuckled again. “I wouldn’t bother. I only have access to the room controls and basic stuff like that. All her private files are locked up tight behind security codes the best hacker in the world couldn’t slice.”

“Of course they are,” I muttered sourly. I wondered what the chances were of me cracking her codes before I was discovered. Less than zero, I decided glumly, looking at the pages of notes in a dozen different languages that had outfoxed me earlier.

Luella waited politely for me to make my decision, then smiled smugly as I stepped back, scowling. Turning back to the computer, she made some quick motions in the air, tapping the virtual keys.

Watching her, my attention was drawn to something strange – a timer in the corner of the screen, ticking away backwards like a countdown. There were a lot of zeros before the digits, as if it had been running for a considerable length of time; it was down to forty-three days, nine hours, and fifteen minutes. “What’s that counting down to?” I asked, puzzled.

Luella glanced at the timer. Her expression was carefully blank, but I thought I saw a faint flicker of anxiety in her eyes. “You’ll have to ask her,” she said evasively. She prodded another virtual button, and I was distracted from any further pursuit of the question by a sudden whirring noise behind me.

I jumped and whirled around, silently cursing that I was so on edge. On the other side of the room, a large section of curved wall was smoothly rising, sliding up into the ceiling out of sight.

My mouth fell open. 

The section of wall completed its manoeuvre, disappearing into the ceiling, and the whirring stopped. Where smooth metal had been now lay revealed another wall that was as clear as glass, and through it was a scene that looked like something from another planet. Dumbfounded, I crossed the room and halted before the window, staring in awe. Knowing the base was a submersible, the under-sea view wasn’t unexpected. I had imagined such a view might include steaming underwater vents, sunken shipwrecks, forests of scintillating weed, or simply pitch-dark nothingness. But never in a million years would I have imagined that we would be sitting serenely beneath thousands of tons of ice.

Fascinated, I stared up at the underside of a frozen wilderness that formed a fabulous ceiling, carved by the ocean currents into fantastical shapes. In places, huge crevasses allowed light from the surface to filter down, illuminating the water beneath for a fair distance before the light was swallowed up by the inky black depths, and causing the ice to glow in brilliant, eerie shades of green and blue.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Luella murmured, moving to stand beside me.

I could only nod silently, overwhelmed. Even from the jaded perspective of someone who had visited almost every country in the world, not to mention stood upon other planets, the sight was one of the most incredible I had ever seen.

Movement caught my eye, and I craned my neck upwards. A school of grey fish darted in hypnotic patterns just above us. As I watched, mesmerised, a streamlined form came plunging down one of the icy crevasses, diving through the midst of the shoal. A seal, hunting for its dinner. I admired its sleek efficiency as the animal herded the fish upwards, trapping them in a frantically milling ball against the ice, and began to systematically strafe backwards and forwards, picking off a fish or two on each run.

I turned my eyes in the other direction, pressing my forehead to the glass in an effort to make out any details of the massive vessel we were in, but frustratingly little could be seen from this angle. Then another flicker of motion caught my eye, further out, and my eyes widened. The seal was not the only hunter in this beautiful wilderness, and he was about to switch abruptly from predator to prey.

Emerging from the gloom into the bright water illuminated by the ice, five orca drove straight for the unfortunate seal. I jumped back, startled, as another huge black and white shape hurtled past our window, so close I swore if the glass had not been there I could have reached out and touched him, heading for the seal from the opposite direction, herding the suddenly panicked creature towards his brothers and sisters.

“Wow,” I murmured, watching the seal dart through the water, dodging the attacks of the whales, trying desperately to make it back to the crevasse and the safety of the surface; but each time he tried, one of the whales cut him off. It was a spectacular, deadly underwater ballet. “I feel like David Attenborough.”

“She loves to watch them,” Luella said softly.

I snorted, an acrid taste filling my mouth as the seal made a fatal mistake, dodging in the wrong direction, and the grinning mouth of a whale seized it by a flipper and began flinging it about. “Of course she does.” The water began to churn red as the whales tore the seal apart. Of course Tanya enjoyed watching the orca hunt. They were as vicious and bloodthirsty as she was.

Luella turned a scowl on me, sensing my thoughts. “Why must you always believe the worst of her?” she demanded. “She’s not evil, any more than they are!” She gestured at the whales.

“Well I’ve yet to see any evidence to the contrary,” I retorted with bitterness. “And you haven’t answered my question. Where exactly are we? This,” I waved at the window in disgust, “doesn’t tell me anything except we’re in the arctic, and I knew that anyway!”

Luella rolled her eyes. “You didn’t specify,” she said crossly. “You asked where we are, and I’m showing you. What were you expecting, coordinates?”

I pursed my lips and said nothing, disappointed but not particularly surprised that she refused to be more precise. The information was still valuable, however; knowing we were beneath sea ice added another obstacle to overcome before I could get the children out. Until I figured a way around that snag, the precise location was moot.

“Fine,” I said, turning away from the window and returning to my chair beside the warm fire. “I guess it’s your turn. What do you want to know?”

Luella walked back to the desk before answering, tapping a few more keys, and the whirring started up again as the wall slid back into place. With another swipe, the hologrammatic screen vanished. Then she returned to sit in the chair opposite, her dark eyes studying me with eager curiosity. I got the sense she had so many questions she was dying to ask me, she was struggling to decide which to ask first.

“Did you really come back from the dead?” she asked finally.

I grimaced. It wasn’t an immediately dangerous topic, but it was still hardly something I relished the prospect of discussing. “Yes and no. Sort of. In a manner of speaking.”

She leaned forward eagerly. “How did you die? Did you really throw yourself off a cliff? Why? What was it like? How did you come back to life?”

“That’s more than one question,” I pointed out.

She shrugged, smiling. “I never said we had to ask one at a time.”

I had to laugh. “No, I guess you didn’t.” I fell silent, thinking, but I could see no harm in telling her the gist of the story. “Yes, I threw myself off a cliff,” I answered, relenting. “It was the only way to return the vanished. We needed the infinity stones, and we found out one of them, the soul stone, was on a planet called Vormir. So that was where we went, me and Hawkeye.”

“How did you get there?” she demanded, fascinated.

“In a spaceship belonging to a… friend.” I raised an admonishing brow at her sceptical expression. “I said I’d tell you the truth. I never said you would believe it.”

She pulled a face. “Fine. Consider my disbelief suspended. So you travelled in a spaceship to a planet called Vormir. Then what happened?” She leaned forward again, as eager as a child for a bedtime story. “What was Vormir like?”

I wrinkled my nose, thinking back. “Beautiful, in a forbidding sort of way. Desolate desert, towering mountains, perpetual twilight. Very cold, and lonely, and a bit sinister, but that could just be me. I did die there, after all.”

She cocked her head, waiting expectantly.

Collecting my thoughts, I went on. Surprisingly enough, I found it less distressing to talk about those events now. The experiences felt detached from me somehow, as though I was a completely different person now to the woman who had climbed that mountain, trudging unknowingly to her own death. I related the events exactly as they happened; the gruelling climb up the freezing mountain, our meeting with the creepy red-skulled guardian and the revelation of the price one of us would have to pay to gain the stone; my battle with Hawkeye and its final conclusion. Her eyes opened wide with wonder as I described the sheer terror of being sucked down by that alien gravity, and that crystal clear moment of calm contentment right before oblivion took me.

“Wow,” she breathed. She shook her head slowly. “And the cliff was, how high?”

I shrugged. “Two hundred feet. At least.”

She shook her head again, regarding me in frank amazement. “ _How_? How are you still alive? It’s impossible! There’s no way you could have survived a fall like that.”

“I didn’t,” I pointed out. “I told you, I died.”

“Then _how_ …?”

I studied her thoughtfully, wondering how much to tell her. “Someone got to me before I was _quite_ dead,” I said carefully. “Someone who had the power to force me to stay alive, and heal the damage to my body, though it took her many weeks.”

Luella gave an ‘ahhh’ of comprehension. “The Scottish one. The one they call the Angel. She heals people. It was her, wasn’t it? She healed you.” She considered that. “She must be incredibly powerful.”

I inclined my head slightly, saying nothing.

Luella frowned, puzzled. “But you were on another planet. And… wasn’t she one of the vanished? You never mentioned her being there. How could she get to you in time?”

I clamped my mouth shut, and shook my head. “That’s all I’m saying. I just answered a load of your questions,” I added, as she looked mutinous. “It’s my turn again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said grumpily.

I opened my mouth, but before I could voice my next question, there was a sharp rap on the door, and it opened.

I cast an alarmed glance at Luella, but the woman merely smiled. “Ah, excellent,” she drawled, as Marcus appeared, wheeling his little trolley with its silver covered dishes. “Lunch.”

Marcus stopped short, and looked at her in irritation. “I was not aware this… person… was permitted visitors,” he said sourly, with the merest disdainful glance in my direction.

“She’s not,” Luella returned evenly. “I’m not here to visit her, I’m here to question her. Kindly be about your business, and stop holding up my interrogation.” She winked at me.

Marcus gave a sceptical snort, but made no further protest, though he glowered at her while he transferred the trolley’s burden to the table. I noticed he left enough cups, plates and cutlery for two. Had he known she would be here, or did he simply always come prepared for any eventuality? Considering his efficiency, I decided it was probably the latter.

“Thank you, Marcus,” Luella drawled as he completed his task. “Don’t scratch your shoes on the way out.”

I pressed my lips together, supressing an appreciative snigger. His shoes were so very, very shiny.

“Most amusing,” Marcus said darkly. I saw him glance towards the unmade bed and scowl; evidently he disliked the thought of leaving the room in any condition other than pristinely clean and tidy, but Luella wasn’t giving him a choice, and it seemed he was compelled to obey her, as much as he disliked it. Glaring daggers at her, he turned smartly on his heel and left us to it.

“Is it wise to provoke him like that?” I asked curiously as we moved to investigate the dishes. I was relieved to see there was more than enough food for both of us, even in my currently famished state. I _was_ surprised at the fare; a beautifully cooked, full English breakfast, complete with plump sausages, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, a rack of perfectly browned toast, and a steaming teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl. A more unexpected meal to be served in the lair of a ruthless Russian warlord was hard to imagine. Melanie would have thoroughly approved.

Luella chuckled, sitting down and helping herself to sausages. “Oh, Marcus and I understand each other. He’s a pompous little prick, but he’s very loyal to Tanya. She plucked him out of an English prison where he was serving a life sentence for poisoning a member of the British aristocracy.”

I cast my eyes heavenward. “Of course she did.” Tantalised by the smell, I eagerly piled food on my plate. “Where else would you find a good servant, but on death row? And who wouldn’t want a convicted murderer for a butler?”

“The British don’t have death row,” she corrected me, deaf to my sarcasm. I rolled my eyes, but let it go, judging it a better use of my mouth to apply myself to my scrambled eggs. They tasted heavenly.

“She admired his creativity; it was really quite ingenious, the way he doctored a book of stamps so that his master ingested the poison when he licked them. She decided he was wasted in prison, so she offered to break him out, in exchange for his service. He jumped at the chance.”

“I bet,” I muttered. I looked at my plate dubiously. Despite my hunger, it no longer looked quite as appetizing as it had a minute ago.

Luella chuckled. “Oh don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare. He knows full well what the penalty would be if anything befell either of us. You’re safer with him outside the door than an army of guards.”

“Hmmmm.” I considered that grimly for a moment, then shrugged and continued eating.

“So about this healer of yours…”

“Oh no you don’t,” I cut her off sternly. “It’s my turn, remember?”

She sighed theatrically and reached for a slice of toast. “Very well, fire away.”

“Where are the children?”

I caught a flicker of something cross her face, as though I had briefly startled her, then her expression cleared. “The children she brought in with you? Four of them, two boys and two girls?”

“Yes, those children!” I snapped sarcastically. “How many children do you have stashed away in this place?”

Again I thought I saw a flicker of something in her eyes, gone too quickly to decipher. “I can’t answer that.”

I glared at her, unsurprised but frustrated at her refusal. “Can you at least tell me if they are all right?”

She nodded. “Yes. They’re fine. I promise,” she added at my threatening look. “They’re a little frightened and confused, but they are perfectly healthy, and they have every comfort. She’s not a monster, I keep telling you. She wouldn’t harm a child, not even to hurt you.”

I gave a derisive snort. She could believe that if she wanted. I knew better. “She already has,” I said bitterly. “ _Purely_ to hurt me!” The vision of the tiny pathetic corpse surmounting the pyramid of bodies in Alaska almost made me gag on my eggs.

To my surprise, rather than appear angry, or defensive, or even disbelieving, Luella simply heaved a weary sigh. “The baby was already dead.”

I blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“The baby. In Alaska,” she said clearly. Her expression was knowing, and sad. “She didn’t kill it. It was already dead. The mother was off her head on mushrooms, hadn’t fed it in days. It died of thirst. She found it lying in a cradle while they were rounding up the villagers. The mother hadn’t even noticed it was dead. She didn’t kill anyone to hurt you, she hadn’t planned on killing anyone at all that day, but she was in such a rage after finding the baby, she executed the mother and every relative and neighbour who hadn’t bothered to check whether she was caring for the infant.”

I gaped at her, my mind reeling, my thoughts turned upside down. “How do you know?” I said at last. “Maybe that’s just what she told you.”

Luella shook her head, a hint of irritation entering her dark eyes. “I know because I was there.” She shrugged and smiled faintly at my disbelieving look. “She sometimes takes me with her when she goes out, in the guise of a servant or bodyguard. She never says anything, always looks irritated if I mention it, but I know she does it to please me. I don’t get out all that much; that’s the one drawback to being a specialist. She often takes me with her if she’s going somewhere pretty.” Her eyes took on a far-away look. “Alaska was beautiful.” Then she grimaced. “Until the village.” She lowered her eyes. “It was cruel, leaving the bodies the way she did for you to find, but she was in such a rage by then she didn’t care. She gets like that, sometimes. It starts out as righteous anger, but then it’s like she loses all perspective, and she just wants to hurt everyone and anyone who ever caused her pain.” She grimaced again. “I hated leaving them like that, especially that poor baby, but there’s no reasoning with her in that mood. She’d have only lashed out at me too.”

I was so confused I couldn’t even respond, too many conflicting emotions churning within me to process. Part of me wanted to believe Luella was lying, but her dark eyes were earnest, and clear of deceit.

“My turn again,” Luella stated, smiling grimly at my bewilderment.

Unable to speak, I simply nodded.

Luella chewed an improbable mouthful, considering, then asked, “Why did you go to the Americans?”

I frowned at my plate, trying to pull myself together, collect my thoughts. “A lot of reasons,” I said slowly. “Partly, I admit, out of pure spite. I hated Madame B, hated the KGB, hated the whole Russian regime for what they had done to me. I wanted to kick them where it hurt. That’s one reason. But mostly I wanted a chance to… be myself. I had spent my entire life being moulded into the specific shape Madame B chose, forged as a weapon, put to use for evil causes. When I met Clint, I realised there had to be a better way. I wanted to be better. I wanted to redeem myself. I wanted to know I was on the side of right; that my lies were a means to a better end, that when I killed, that person _deserved_ to die, that my actions were helping in some way to make life better for little girls like me…” I gave myself a shake, and coughed self-consciously, embarrassed by my rambling. “Sounds lame, I know.”

Luella shook her head thoughtfully. “No, not at all. Tanya felt the same, why do you think she did everything she’s done? She wanted to make the KGB better, Russia better, the _world_ better.”

I snorted, snapping out of my nostalgia. “This is her way of making the world better is it?” I said sarcastically. “By trying to conquer it?”

Luella shrugged diffidently, another unreadable flicker passing over her face. “She made the Red Room better by taking it over. Sometimes evil deeds are necessary for the greater good.”

I narrowed my eyes, eyeing her thoughtfully. Her mention of the Red Room made me put voice to a suspicion. “You were one of hers too, weren’t you? Like Viktoria.”

She nodded. “Would you like to hear my story?”

“If you want to tell me,” I said with a shrug. I didn’t want to seem too eager. I told myself I just wanted to keep her talking; the more she talked, the more information I could gather, and the less she would be getting from me. It was not, I told myself firmly, because I was in any way curious to hear more details about Tanya’s life, or about the woman who had, to all intents and purposes, replaced me.

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “I think you need to hear it. And perhaps, once you have, you’ll see her differently.”

I was silent. I doubted her story would change anything.

Luella poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it slowly while she gathered her thoughts. “I first met Madame, as I knew her then, nineteen years ago. A few months after your disappearance. She had assumed control of the Red Room, and set about making some major changes to how it was run.” She pulled a face. “She told me about her predecessor. Now _she_ was a monster!” She eyed me as though expecting a response.

I applied myself to my food and said nothing.

She shrugged, and went on. “Tanya disapproved of waste. She put a stop to the system where orphanages simply drafted off excess or troublesome youngsters to the Red Room, whether or not they were actually suitable, and began choosing her candidates far more selectively. Some she still took from orphanages, though after testing; others, like Viktoria, came to her attention through the judicial system – child criminals. And some, she personally extracted from some truly appalling situations. I was one of the first of those. I was thirteen, a child prostitute under the thumb of an infamous local thug.”

I blanched, almost choking on my mouthful. Whatever I had expected to hear, that wasn’t it.

Luella gave me a strained smile, and continued her story. “I never knew anything about him except his first name, Jared. He may have been my father for all I know; my mother was one of his creatures. After I was born, she managed to keep me out of his clutches for a while, hiding me all over the city, then when I was older sending me away on errands while she worked, but when I was seven, he finally caught up to her. I was growing, needed more to eat, so she had been trying to conceal some of her earnings from him to pay for food. He throttled her to death while I beat at him pointlessly with my pathetic little fists, then took me while her body was still warm. He kept me locked up in his house for six years, selling me to those of his ‘customers’ who liked them young. Once I hit puberty, he started preparing me for what I would become; a street whore just like my mother, doomed to hand over almost every penny I made for the privilege of sleeping in his basement, and a barely adequate supply of the drugs he made sure I was addicted to. There was no escape from him.”

I swallowed hard. Her voice was flat and matter-of-fact, but with a hard, bitter edge that told me this was no exaggeration to play on my sympathies.

“One afternoon, I awoke to a commotion upstairs – sounds of fighting.” She shrugged. “We just assumed Jared had pushed some other thug too far, that some other gang had broken in. It was always a risk, and we all knew what would happen in that scenario. At best, they would kill us, at worst, we would become drudges for someone else. The basement was sealed up tight, there was no way out. There were three of us sleeping in there at the time. The other two just huddled in a corner, weeping, but for some reason the sounds of the fighting made me angry. I decided all of a sudden that I would rather die than live like this anymore. That I was going to fight, if only to make sure they killed me. The only things in the basement were our mattresses and rags and some rickety old chairs, so I smashed one against the floor to make a weapon.” She smiled. “That was the moment I met Tanya – she opened the basement door and I tried to brain her with a chair leg.”

“What did she do?” I asked, curious despite myself.

“Oh she had the chair leg off me in a blink, but then she just stood there and let me come at her. I couldn’t get near her. She could have knocked me out in a heartbeat, but she didn’t. She just kept sidestepping my attacks, keeping me from hurting myself, until I wore myself out. I was malnourished and scrawny, it didn’t take long. Then, once I calmed down, she explained who she was, what I had the potential to be. I told her she was crazy. She just smiled. Then she gestured, and two big men came down into the basement. Jared was dangling between them, bound and gagged, his face all bloody, his eyes popping. They dumped him on the floor at my feet. And she turned to me, and held out a gun. “If I’m crazy, then walk away,” she told me. “You’ll be alone, and you will suffer hardship, but you will be free. But if you want to make a difference, if you want to change the world we live in so filth like this cannot pervert the lives of others, then here is your chance.” And she put the gun in my hand.”

I curled my lip in distaste, guessing what came next. Luella averted her eyes slightly and shrugged. “For a second, all I wanted to do was drop the thing and run away, hide in the corner and bawl my eyes out like the other two. She barely looked at them. That was what stopped me, that feeling that she thought I was special, that I was worth more than they were. I looked at her, and looked at the gun, and it was like time slowed down. She didn’t move, and she didn’t look angry at my hesitation. She just watched me with a sad little smile, as if she understood exactly what I was feeling. And it didn’t feel like she _expected_ me to execute him either; there was no pressure from her. More like… she just wanted to see what I would do, but her choice was made regardless.” A touch of defiance entered her voice as she laboured the point. “She didn’t _specifically_ order me to kill him. I could have given the gun back, asked her to do it instead.”

“But you didn’t,” I guessed quietly.

Luella closed her eyes briefly, and nodded. “I looked down at that man… that _animal_ , grovelling at my feet. The _thing_ that had killed my mother, who had taken my childhood, made my life an endless torment. And I felt the gun in my hand, saw the way he looked at it, looked at me, with the same terror I had felt for so long… and suddenly I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Suddenly I had the power. I raised the gun, and I saw the panic spark in his eyes, and he moaned and squealed through the gag, begging me to let him live. Just like my mother had begged, or tried to, with his hands around her throat. I don’t know whether it was revenge, or justice… but my finger pulled the trigger, and I put a bullet in his forehead. And then I looked down at the useless hunk of meat he had become, and I burst into tears.” She flushed, embarrassed. “I dropped the gun, ran into a corner, and threw up everywhere. And Tanya stepped over the puddle of sick, sat down on that filthy floor beside me, and held me while I cried like a baby.”

I regarded her silently, both moved and extremely disturbed by her tale. I couldn’t blame her for what she had done; I knew I would probably have done the same. Nor could I entirely condemn Tanya for giving Luella the means to execute her tormentor, incredibly callous though it seemed, and as horrified as I knew my friends would be at the very idea. Some might say Tanya’s methods were no better than her predecessor’s, but to me there was a profound difference. She and I had been given no choice but to become murderers; we had been forced to kill to survive. Luella had not. She had been a victim of crimes just as heinous as those I had suffered, but Tanya had not _forced_ her to kill by handing her that gun. She had already liberated her from the thug’s clutches; her survival was no longer in doubt. She had given power to the powerless, given a victim with no control over her life the means to live by her own choices. She hadn’t forced Luella to become a killer; she had merely given her the opportunity. The choice had been her own.

I realised Luella was speaking again, and dragged my attention back to what she was saying.

“I still find it amazing, looking back, to realise she was only nineteen then. Only six years older than me. She had such poise, such presence. She looked young, of course, but she always has – she never changed much, year on year. I didn’t find out until much later just how young she actually was that day. She took me from that place, brought me to the Red Room. She put me back together, built back up everything Jared had stripped away. She gave me a purpose, made me feel worth something. And I worshipped the ground she walked on.”

I shook my head, conflicted. For Tanya to have turned the Red Room into a place of rehabilitation and sanctuary rather than horror and abuse was an incredible achievement, but it still gave me a bad taste in my mouth. Her subtle manipulation of those poor victims, moulding them into killers willing to do anything for her, was extremely disturbing, all the more so because I knew she had gotten the idea from my piece of theatre with Wanda. And though she may well have felt some spark of common feeling for them, I was certain her prime motivation for selecting them had not been altruism. Evidently she had not felt empathy enough for Luella to spare her an assignment which surely dragged up memories of the worst kind.

“She made you a specialist?” I said now, troubled. “Knowing your history?”

To my surprise, Luella smiled. “Not exactly. The specialists were my idea.”

My brows shot up. “Yours?”

She laughed at my shocked expression. “I knew you’d be surprised. You’d think, wouldn’t you, that after all I had been through, I’d avoid sex like the plague, not be the mastermind behind the creation of what amounts to a very exclusive brothel.”

I choked, and seeing her amusement, hurriedly helped myself to more bacon.

She stared into her tea, her expression becoming serious. “It’s funny how the past affects you. Some things you can get past, recover from. But some things just become part of you, permanently. Madame managed to help me over the drug addiction Jared had forced on me; that I recovered from, and I’ve never touched the stuff since. But other habits were simply too deeply ingrained to change.” She winced a little ruefully. “She was furious at first when she found out I was sleeping with all three of the older male trainees, the ones who survived her predecessor; she assumed they were conspiring to take advantage of me. Right up until she threatened to thrash them to within an inch of their lives, and I confessed that it hadn’t been their idea. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen her speechless. Of course she tried to fix me, tried to wean me off my addiction like she had weaned me off the drugs, but nothing she tried worked; I just became more and more unstable. Finally, she realised that I couldn’t help it, and that she couldn’t change it; my body was simply programmed to be used that way, and I couldn’t turn it off. I was conditioned to need sex, like I needed food or water or oxygen. So, much as she disliked it, she gave in, and told me she would see to it that I got what I needed, but from someone more trustworthy than a load of randy young boys.”

I grimaced, seeing at once where this was going. “The Night Master.”

Luella nodded with a faint smile. “That’s why she puts up with him, mostly. Oh, she says it’s just because he’s useful, because she needs someone to run the specialists, but I know better. She’ll never admit it, but she’s deeply grateful to him for the way he handled me. Everything changed once he started to visit me. He didn’t just give me what I’d been conditioned to need, he unravelled that need in me and taught me to control it. He taught me about my own body, taught me that it wasn’t just the man’s prerogative to feel pleasure. That sex was _my_ choice, not theirs, and that I wasn’t obliged to service the needs of every male I met. He encouraged me to say no to him if I wasn’t in the mood; it took a while for me to even understand what that meant, but eventually, I managed to get to the point where there were times, occasionally, when I didn’t feel the need. When I did tell him no.” She smiled indulgently. “Madame was so proud of me when I told her that. But there was never any question that sex was still very much part of who I was, how I dealt with things. Once she was happy that I was in control of it, that it was my choice to walk that road, Madame allowed me to specialise in the arts of seduction. It was what I excelled at, and there would always be a need for agents willing to serve in such a capacity.” She winked at me. “Something I believe you and I have in common.”

I kept my eyes on my bacon, but didn’t both to deny it. Besides, it was a sort of complement.

“I proposed the idea of the specialists to Madame about six months before I graduated. I was the oldest of _her_ trainees, and that last year she often invited me into her sitting room to talk of an evening. She said it was part of her ongoing assessment, and part of my preparation, but I think she was also lonely. She had so much going on in that head of hers, so many plans scheming away; she had every hour of the day filled, working with trainees, off selecting candidates, meeting with the other Brethren, studying, tinkering away in that lab downstairs… she never seemed to stop, and yet she still couldn’t occupy enough of her brain to take her mind off the gaping hole your absence left.”

I swallowed hard.

“I was one of the few who had any inkling of her greater ambitions. The rest of the Brethren infuriated her with their petty little power struggles, and complete inability to consider the common good. I knew a long time ago that the day would come when she would rise above them. And I had a few ideas as to how she might achieve that.”

My eyes narrowed, my thoughts racing. I thought I saw where this was going, but I waited, letting her make her own way there.

“It wasn’t such an original thought, really,” she said, shrugging. “We’re all aware of the power of a little pillow talk in the realms of espionage, even those who prefer not to use such tactics. I suggested to Madame that not even the Brethren would be immune, especially if they could be approached in such a way as they willingly dropped their guard. So I proposed that, in place of the very informal understanding that one would be rewarded for exceptional performance with permission to indulge their carnal appetites, she formalise the custom, and create a place of ultimate reward and relaxation. A brothel, yes, but a very exclusive one. No expense spared – fine food, luxurious surroundings, quality entertainment, skilled company… such rewards could be a powerful incentive, which would be more than enough reason for the Brethren to approve the idea, but as I pointed out, it wouldn’t be long before they were keen to access such privileges for themselves. However vigilant they might be at first, once the practice became accepted, they would start to let down their guard. And then if, amongst the talented but essentially harmless courtesans were a few not so harmless? She could learn a great deal from such a source, not only about the Brethren, but about everyone in the organisation. And as she told me many times, knowledge is power.”

I gave a soft whistle, unwillingly impressed. I had to admit, the idea was brilliant, a trap so seductive that the Brethren, even if they had suspected its presence, had surely not been able to resist walking right into it. “And did you also suggest that _you_ be one of those not-so-harmless courtesans?” I asked. “Or was that her idea?”

“No, no, I volunteered,” Luella replied airily. “Why not? It was what I excelled at, it was my idea, and to begin with I was the only one she could trust with such an assignment. She _did_ insist I took my apprenticeship year on the outside first, just in case I changed my mind, but when I returned, and still had no doubts, she agreed.”

“So you joined the specialists,” I summed up thoughtfully. I frowned. “And she doesn’t mind?”

“Mind what?” Luella looked genuinely puzzled.

I shrugged awkwardly. “You know… sharing you, with all those other people. You sleeping with men.”

Luella laughed outright. “Why on earth would she mind? After everything she went through with me after she found me, she knows I’m incapable of monogamy. But she also knows that even if my body is not reserved for her alone, my loyalty _is_. That means far more to her than some ridiculous notion of faithfulness.” She shook her head, still smiling. “Besides, I doubt she could remain strictly faithful any more than I could. Oh she tried, to be sure. She tried to remain true to you, even though you betrayed her. She loved you enough that it was years before she could bear to be touched by anyone else.”

I gritted my teeth, and carefully poured myself more tea, refusing to acknowledge her knowing look. “So how did you two end up lovers?” I asked, determined to steer the conversation away from me. I eyed her warily, suddenly wondering if I wanted to know. Luella had frankly admitted to needing to please men, but I doubted sleeping with women had featured anywhere in her early conditioning. “Did she force you?”

Luella wrinkled her nose, disgusted. “Of course not,” she snapped angrily. She drew in a deep breath, calming herself. “No,” she continued, “She didn’t force me. I didn’t even know about her back then; she kept it hidden for a long time. It was a good couple of years after I graduated that things changed between us. The specialists were well established by then, and thoroughly successful, and I had become one of her most valued informants. She visited me regularly for my reports, and often stayed for a drink and to talk, sometimes long into the night. I’d felt something different about her for some time; I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she seemed… tense. Frustrated. Agitated almost. Not so much that most would notice, but as a specialist, I could see the signs.” She shrugged with a faint smile. “Believe it or not, we don’t just deal in sex. Our primary function is to provide comfort and ease – we enable our clients to achieve the release they need, whether that be physical or emotional. Field agents have a tendency to bottle things up,” she said, with a touch of dry humour. “Specialists are trained in a variety of disciplines in addition to the arts of pleasure. Massage, alternative medicine, and counselling to name but a few. Believe me, I’ve had a fair few big hairy men sob their hearts out on my shoulder! It seemed to me that Madame was in need… and I couldn’t understand why she didn’t simply make use of the specialists herself. Finally, I made so bold as to suggest it. I thought perhaps she was worried about revealing too much of herself, but I told her I could recommend a couple of the males that I gauged as especially trustworthy; it wouldn’t do any harm, I suggested, to relive her own needs with one of them once in a while. She went rigid, and for a second I thought that I’d overstepped myself, that she was angry. But then she just shook her head, and replied that she didn’t think that would work out.” Luella shook her own head ruefully. “It puzzled me for a while – I was so incredibly clueless – but then suddenly it hit me, and I was _mortified_. How could I have been so stupid? And then, of course, it all made sense… the tense way she had been acting around me, the surreptitious glances, the feeling of frustration…” She chuckled. “In my defence, when I proposed the whole idea, I didn’t know she was secretly into women! How could I have predicted what having all those beautiful women around, hearing every detail of how her fellow Brethren were indulging themselves, what that would do to her? She could have requested one of the female specialists of course, but they would have the right to refuse, all specialists have that right, and she was very proud. Too proud to ask, when she might be rejected, and too proud to risk becoming the subject of gossip.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t just force them,” I muttered, my lip curling in distaste. “She could have threatened to kill them if they told anyone. No-one would have known.”

Luella scowled, but held on to her temper. “She could have,” she admitted grudgingly, “but she didn’t. It would have turned the specialists against her, and she had no intention of spoiling her most lucrative enterprise merely for the sake of a few hours sport, no matter how frustrated she felt. Even now, when none would dare refuse, she rarely takes anyone who isn’t already inclined that way. The majority of her partners are more than willing; such inclinations are less of a stigma, since her preferences became public knowledge. Inclusion in her group of favourites is an honour some are willing to fight tooth and nail for.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Tanya would have her own private harem. Why was I even surprised by that? “And you’re seriously telling me that doesn’t bother you?” I asked, still struggling to wrap my head around their peculiar relationship. She had seemed so possessive, in that brief moment when she had thought Tanya and I had slept together…

Luella shrugged. “I told you, neither of us is inclined to monogamy. It doesn’t matter to me that she enjoys other women. Sometimes we enjoy them together,” she added with a cheeky wink, evidently entertained by my discomfort. “What matters is I know I’m the one she trusts, the one she confides in, the one she cares about.”

“Hmmm.” I refrained from saying what I was thinking, but I had my doubts about that. Luella obviously had strong feelings for Tanya, but while she seemed convinced Tanya returned them, I still had great difficulty with the idea that anyone could deal so viciously with someone they truly cared about.

“Was it still taboo back then?” I asked, carefully side-stepping the subject and returning to our prior thread of conversation. “You said she was worried about people finding out. Did realising her preferences change how you saw her?”

“Yes and no,” Luella answered thoughtfully. “Did it make me respect her less, esteem her less as a leader? No, not at all. I knew there was no substance to that whole ‘homosexuals are unnatural perverts’ dogma. I had seen the truly unnatural and perverted, growing up, and there was no comparison. What I grew up with, using children, _that_ was an abomination. Tanya was nothing like them. So in one way, no, it made no difference to me at all. And in another, it made all the difference in the world.” She flushed slightly. “I had no problem with it, but I had never thought about it, on a personal level before. I had never looked at a woman that way. But once I knew what she was, once I realised the way she had been looking at me… I admit, I panicked a little, at first. I wasn’t sure what to do, whether I should say something, or just politely ignore it… but the more I thought about it, the more I _couldn’t_ ignore it. The thought of touching her, of her touching me…” Her flush deepened at the memory. “I found myself dreaming about it, waking up aching for her… I had never wanted anything so much in my life. But I knew she would never make a move. So the next time she visited, after I gave my report, I poured the wine as usual, then I casually suggested that if she preferred not to see one of the males, perhaps _I_ could be of service.” She laughed softly. “She nearly choked on her wine. She looked at me, saw that I understood, that I was serious, and for a minute she was speechless. And then she slowly drew me closer, and kissed me…” Her gaze turned distant, dreamy. “It was the best night of my life. Being with her… she was better than the Night Master, better than any lover I had had since. I never imagined anything could feel so wonderful.”

I cleared my throat pointedly, but I understood how she felt. I had felt the same after my first time with Melanie. She made it sound so idyllic; but if last night’s performance had been any measure, there was an unpleasant twist in the tale yet to come.

“And how long before it got less wonderful?” I asked harshly. “How long have you been putting up with scenes like last night?”

She came back to earth with a start, and frowned, averting her eyes. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” she said coldly. Then she shrugged. “We all have our quirks. Tanya sometimes needs to hurt people. And I… well like I said, the past can affect you in strange ways. Sometimes I need to be hurt.”

I stared at her for a full minute before deliberately shaking my head. “No. I’m not buying it. You’re not going to explain away what I witnessed last night as BDSM. I’ve played those games myself, plenty of times. That wasn’t rough sex, that was torture. You claim your screams were an act, but I know what I heard. You weren’t playing a game, you were in agony! I watched her patch you up afterwards, and some of those cuts went right down to the bone!”

Luella flinched uncomfortably. “Well, alright, I admit, sometimes she… takes it a little far.”

“ _A little far?”_ I repeated, outraged.

“It doesn’t happen often,” she said defensively, still not meeting my eyes. “And I know she regrets it afterwards. She might not say it, but she always tries to make it up to me.”

Frowning, I couldn’t help but remember how attentive Tanya had been the night before, once she had calmed down from her vicious rage; how she had made sure Luella had reached her climax before pursuing her own, how tenderly she had doctored her wounds. I shook my head, once again hopelessly confused. “I don’t understand,” I said finally. “How can you forgive her so easily?”

“Because I know her, and I know it isn’t her fault,” Luella replied softly. She abruptly looked me in the eye once more, her expression painfully earnest. “She can’t help the way she is, Romanoff. You know about her memory, about the way she sees things, don’t you?”

My frown deepening, not seeing what that had to do with anything, I slowly nodded.

She made a sound of exasperation at my confusion. “She sees _everything_ , and forgets _nothing_! Can you even imagine what that’s like? The burden of all those memories, all those endless details piling up inside her head, day after day, year after year? It all becomes part of her. _All_ of it, don’t you understand? Everything, the good, the bad and the ugly. It all defines her. She can’t filter any of it out; she doesn’t get to choose whether to be good or evil, she has to be _everything_ , to be both. It’s like a constant battle inside her, a conflict she can never resolve. Can you blame her for lashing out sometimes, for needing to externalise some of that pain? If she didn’t, she’d go mad.” Her expression twisted with anguish. “Although I sometimes worry that madness is inevitable, eventually. That one day the scales are going to tip too far for her to balance it out. It’s getting harder and harder for her to control her violent fits. She does _try_ not to take it out on me. She usually takes one of the expendables if she’s worked up. Criminals,” she added, seeing me blanch. “She has a bunch of them locked up. Rapists, murderers, child-killers, that sort. They’ve already earned the death penalty, and we have the means to separate the innocent from the guilty. No-one is going to shed any tears over them. That’s who the chains are for, mostly. She takes the worst of her rages out on them. And if, sometimes, she still ends up hurting me, like last night… I know she regrets it, and I can’t hate her for it. Because I know it hurts her, afterwards, maybe more than it did me. She can never forget what she did.”

I shook my head again, my thoughts now in such a tangle I despaired of ever unravelling them. That Luella sincerely believed what she was saying was evident, but that didn’t mean it was true. On the one hand, I had first-hand experience of the kind of agonising, irreconcilable conflict that she described, and if Tanya had indeed been living with such a rift all these years I could certainly understand how that might unhinge her. But was that really an acceptable excuse for the unspeakable things she had done? I could no longer dispute the fact that Tanya had managed to achieve a great deal of good, but did that balance out the evil?

I didn’t have an answer.

A small device at her wrist suddenly lit up and beeped. “On that note,” Luella said resignedly, glancing at the dial, “I believe we are out of time.” She held up her wrist so I could see the tiny display.

MY OFFICE. NOW, it said.

I regarded the message with mixed feelings, my heart thumping. “You’re so sure she cares for you,” I said as she got to her feet. “Will she really hurt you? Or was that all a lie to get me to talk?”

Luella shrugged slightly. “I doubt she’d kill me. As for the rest?” She shrugged again, the same look of resignation on her face that I had seen last night. “I guess I’ll find out.” She smiled. “Maybe, if all goes well, we’ll have lunch together again sometime.”

I was at a loss for a reply, baffled by her attitude. This woman had substantial cause to hate me, and yet she seemed almost friendly. I couldn’t help liking her, even admiring her boldness, but I didn’t trust her in the least. Our conversation had filled in a few gaps, to be sure, but had only left me with more questions, and more confused than ever. I needed to find my own answers, and it occurred to me that Luella could help with that too.

“Luella,” I stalled her as she turned to leave, a plan flashing into my mind. “Do you know where the children are? I know you can’t tell me, but do you know?”

She paused, pursing her lips, then nodded once. She waited.

I sighed. “Could you take them a message? Will you?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Please,” I said softly. “They must be so frightened. Could you just let them know that I’m alright? Tell them I won’t let anything bad happen to them. Please.”

She hesitated, her expression softening a fraction. “I can’t promise. But I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

She remained a moment longer, studying me like a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve. Then she shook her head, as though remembering she had been summoned. “I have to go.”

“Good luck,” I offered. I was surprised to find I meant it.

She didn’t answer, but she gave me a slight wave of farewell as she marched with a straight back through the double doors.


	4. 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha puts her new abilities to good use.

As soon as the doors snapped shut behind her I pushed away from the table. Scanning the room quickly, assessing my options, I ran to the bed. It was closest. I hurriedly laid down and closed my eyes, turning my attention inward, seeking out that specific little corner of my brain that the neural stunners had highlighted so spectacularly. Now that I knew where to find it, it was almost too easy to locate, sitting there like a big pulsing red button. Hoping against hope that this would work, I braced myself, and _pushed_.

The effect was immediate. It took every ounce of concentration I had to override the overwhelming urge to send my entire consciousness fleeing as though chased by wolves; I gritted my teeth, clamping down hard on the sudden surge of panic. I imagined setting a barrier like a sieve before the tide, catching myself and preventing the wholesale desertion.

 _Its working!_ I thought, elated. _All I have to do is alter the shape and placement of the holes, and I can siphon off any part of me that I choose…_ It was so simple, so absurdly easy, I almost laughed aloud. But there was no time to celebrate my achievement. As I had in the arena, I swiftly dumped enough old memories back where they started to keep me stable, then stepped out of my body. Turning to look down at myself, I took a millisecond to check that the scene looked suitably innocent. My body showed no sign of animation, lying exactly as I had left it, eyes closed as though sleeping.

“I am never going to get used to that,” I said aloud, secure in the knowledge that my shadow made no sound. It just seemed so absurdly wrong to be viewing my own body from the outside like this. I frowned briefly at my stillness. I was sure there had to be a way to animate both pieces of myself at once, I had done it before after all, but I shelved that problem for another time; right now, I was on a mission.

Leaving my body apparently sleeping peacefully in Tanya’s bed, I zipped over to the doors. I hesitated before passing through, my thoughts racing. I had no idea what lay on the other side, and if Tanya had guards, I didn’t want them noticing anything odd. So I morphed into an amorphous shape and slid up the wall to the ceiling. Gravity had no hold on me in this form, and I had pulled off infiltrations plenty of times by staying high; in my experience, people seldom bothered to look up. Passing through the door, sticking to the ceiling like slippery glue, I shot off in pursuit of Luella.

After all, why waste time wandering all over the base, when I could have a guided tour?

There were indeed guards outside, two of them, appearing erect and alert despite what must be a very boring assignment. But then, considering whose chambers they were guarding, I doubted even the most reckless would dare relax. If their leader returned unexpectedly, it would be the last mistake they ever made.

Luella was already at the far side of the large, lobby-like space, almost to another set of double doors. It was the work of an instant for my shadow to catch up with her, even skirting the edges, flashing past several closed doors and a large bustling kitchen in which a burly Frenchman muttered over a steaming pan of soup. More of a problem was the fact that the corridor she then passed into was bare of any ornamentation and very brightly lit; there were no dark nooks and crannies to hide in out here. If anyone glanced up, or if anyone was watching on the security cameras I had no doubt existed outside Tanya’s private domain, they would see me. I solved that problem by hitching a ride within the one shadow available that was travelling exactly where I wanted to go – Luella’s own.

It took a little concentration to match her pace and keep myself within the limits of her moving shadow, but not as much as I expected. The compulsive attraction this form seemed to have for other shadows helped considerably, staying with it was largely a matter of going with my instincts. I was soon confident enough to allow my attention to stray to our surroundings.

We were walking along a gently curving corridor that was growing steadily busier, men and women in various iterations of the green and black uniform hurrying about their business, disappearing into and appearing from side corridors that branched off at intervals. One side of this particular passage was mainly glass, and I found myself looking into the hangar Viktoria had described. It was indeed enormous, a cylindrical shaft that appeared to lie at the very core of the vessel, twenty decks deep and wide enough to take an A380 without even brushing the sides, making me marvel once again in grudging admiration at the sheer size of this place. We were evidently somewhere in the uppermost decks. Craning my neck as best I could when the opportunity presented itself, I caught glimpses of what lay below. In the centre of the floor, far, far beneath us, I spied Goravitch’s submarine, nestled like a bloated whale in its dock. A little above that, like a mezzanine floor, I saw the elevator platform Viktoria had spoken of, noticed the tracks of some gigantic winch system set into the far wall, a vertical column that ran all the way up to the closed circular portal in the ceiling. The platform itself was a huge three-quarter-circle fitting snuggly against the sides of the hangar, with more than enough space to accommodate the collection of vehicles that rested upon it. As Viktoria had described, there were several small jets, including the quinjet, a few cars and jeeps, and a jet black helicopter. Other than a few people in overalls performing routine maintenance on the vehicles, and a few more carrying boxes to and fro, the hanger was deserted.

I frowned to myself as I kept pace with Luella, mystified by the lack of activity. I had expected some sign of urgency. Where were the frenzied preparations for an imminent assault, whether it was on the Avengers Facility or Wakanda?

The hanger seemed to act as a central hub, the walls curving around it lined with viewing windows just like the ones I was looking through, affording me a view of a good sixteen decks on the far side. Mostly I saw corridors like the one I was traversing, people scurrying to and fro like ants in a hive, but here and there I got a glimpse into rooms – a few offices, meeting rooms, a bustling canteen. Nothing that immediately jumped out at me as malignant. Opposite my current position was a larger area, its walls entirely glass, that was a bustle of activity – many, many people who mostly sat at large monitors. I smiled to myself. Nice of them to make the bridge so easy to find. I marked the location in my internal compass to investigate later, but for the time being, I was determined to stick with my unknowing guide.

Glancing up at her, I noted Luella seemed preoccupied as she traversed the seemingly endless corridor, ignoring the people she passed. Finally, as I calculated we must be nearing the bridge, the corridor veered away from the curve of the central hangar. Luella moved through a more complex maze before finally halting outside one particular door. I saw her breathe slowly in and out a few times, as though bracing herself, before she raised her hand and knocked. The door slid open, and she entered. Still hidden within her shadow, I followed.

Viper’s office was dim by comparison to the brightly lit corridors. I took advantage of that to ease myself from Luella’s dwindling shadow and into the darker space behind a waste paper basket, though if I had been capable of it in this form, I would have been sweating as I did so. Considering Tanya’s inhuman perception, I was taking a massive risk; if I moved within her range of vision, she would notice.

To my great relief, however, Tanya was not looking my way at the moment. She was standing by a large window that once again looked out over the hanger, her back to the door. She didn’t turn or move as Luella entered and the door closed behind her.

“Secure office,” Tanya said quietly.

I shivered as a line of sinister red light sped swiftly over every surface. The viewing window blacked out, but Tanya remained where she was, staring at its now blank surface as though she could still see the view.

Luella eyed her warily. “Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry,” Tanya said softly. Though her voice was calm, I uneasily noted the tension in her rigid stance, the hands clenched to fists at her sides.

Luella sighed. “Then I guess I’d better take this off,” she said resignedly, starting to unzip her jacket. “I’m told it’s a nightmare to get bloodstains out of this fabric. You should probably look into better alternatives.”

Tanya actually winced. A tremor ran through her shoulders.

Luella removed her jacket and folded it neatly, laying it over the back of a chair. She wore only a simple halter beneath it, the clean white bandages and ugly red streaks from the previous night standing out starkly against the pale skin of her back.

“Where would you like me this time?” she asked, still with that note of resignation.

Tanya finally turned around, and I was surprised by the emotions that battled openly on her face, a barely restrained lust for violence warring with aching regret. “Luella…”

“If it’s all the same to you, would you mind aiming for the front this time?” Luella continued blithely. “My back is pretty sore.”

“Damn it, Luella!” Tanya crossed the room in two strides and slammed her against the wall, smashing her fist into the metal beside her head. The woman winced as her back hit the wall, but otherwise showed no reaction, looking into her eyes without fear.

For a long moment, there was stillness as they stared at each other, and I caught myself holding my breath.

Abruptly, Tanya pushed herself away, turning her back once more and breathing deeply to calm herself.

Luella watched her warily. “Are you okay?” she ventured after a minute.

Tanya sighed, and some of the tension dissipated. “I wish you wouldn’t push it so,” she said, sounding weary. “One of these days, you’re going to go too far, you know that?”

Luella shrugged. “I push when you need it. You were heading for a blowout.” She approached cautiously, sliding her arms gently around her waist. “Am I forgiven?” she murmured in her ear, nibbling gently on her earlobe.

Tanya scowled, but allowed the intimacy. “That depends. I assume your disobedience had a purpose. Did you learn anything?”

“Plenty.” Luella disengaged sensuously and moved back to the chair where she had deposited her jacket. Pulling it casually back on, she sat down with practiced grace, crossing her legs. “We had a lovely chat over lunch. Very civilised.”

“She talked?” Tanya looked sceptical.

“A surprising amount,” Luella confirmed, with a hint of amusement. “I expected it to be a lot harder, with her reputation, but then, she’s hardly a match for that at the moment.”

Tanya glanced at her sharply. “What do you mean? She has no injuries, that tap on the head I gave her wouldn’t –“

“No, no, physically I’m sure she’s perfectly capable of taking on a small army,” Luella said with a dismissive wave. “Mentally, on the other hand?” She shook her head. “She’s got that look.”

“Look?” Tanya looked impatient. “What look?”

Luella grimaced. “The look of someone who has hit rock bottom, and is still trying to figure out how to claw their way back up.”

Tanya’s eyes narrowed. “You think she’s been broken?”

“Yes.” Luella cocked her head to one side. “Isn’t that a good thing? Won’t it make it easier?”

“Not necessarily.” Tanya slowly sat down in a second chair, frowning. She drummed her nails on the desk, thinking. “What’s your evidence?” she asked finally.

Luella shrugged. “A lot of little things. She got agitated, more than once. She struggled with her emotions, and that annoyed her, like she’s suddenly having to deal with a lot of feelings she’s never had to deal with before. She also _talked_ a lot more than I was expecting. Like sharing confidences was something she found uncomfortable, but familiar, as though she’s been forced to do it a lot lately. I’m guessing she’s spent a considerable amount of time with a therapist.” She shrugged again. “And like I said, she has that look. I’ve seen it before, on people that have simply gone through too much. Sometimes right before they tried to kill themselves.” She paused thoughtfully. “And it wouldn’t surprise me if she had hit that point recently, too, however briefly.”

Still hidden in the shadows, I cursed, furious that I had been so easy to read.

“Interesting,” Tanya mused. “I wonder what did it.”

“Any number of things, by the sound of it,” Luella remarked. “The woman has been through the mill the last few years. She told me the story of how she died, by the way.”

Tanya fixed her with a piercing look. “And?”

“And you were right, the Angel was the one who saved her. She’s even more powerful than we thought. She threw herself off a two-hundred foot cliff; she said it took the Angel weeks to heal the damage. That’s some pretty serious trauma.”

“But you don’t think that’s what broke her,” Tanya observed shrewdly.

Luella shook her head. “No, and I don’t think it was what Goravitch and Skuler did to her either. It was something else. Something a lot more recent. Maybe something to do with these weird new powers of hers?” She hesitated. “Or maybe something to do with you. She hides it well, but I can tell she’s pretty torn up about how things have turned out. Very conflicted, as though it’s all still very recent. Very raw. Your time travel theory checks out, I don't see any other way the Angel could have got to her in time to save her, considering she was one of the vanished. I don't know why Romanoff would go back in time to the Red Room of all places, but if that's what happened, I think it must have been fairly recently.”

I gave a start, shocked and dismayed that they had deduced that secret.

“Yes, I’m certain it must have been after the cliff incident,” Tanya said broodingly. She made a curt gesture, and a huge hologrammatic screen burst into life, full of a bewildering array of information, too much to take in at a glance, but all of it clearly about me. Tanya flicked a wrist, enlarging a few particular windows. I saw they were medical reports from the many times I had been relegated to Shield’s infirmary, scans and body maps detailing injuries I had received. “She already had all these scars,” Tanya mused quietly, almost to herself, idly tracing the images with a finger. “There are only two I haven’t seen before, one on her shoulder and one on her leg. Which suggests her point of origin was after Thanos, and the presence of Maximoff means it has to have been after the vanished returned. Then there’s this.” She made another gesture, and another window sprang into the foreground. I swallowed hard as I saw it was footage from inside our quinjet. Her clever little bug must have managed to pull a dump of everything on the jet’s onboard hard drive, including the security recordings. I would have bitten my lip, if I had lips. I remembered this particular scene all too well. Melanie and I were alone in the jet. She appeared to be trying to calm my obvious agitation, my expression stressed and wracked with anger and doubt.

 _“You really think this is some kind of PTSD?”_ the figure of myself was asking.

Melanie’s image visibly heaved a sigh. _“There’s no physical explanation for what is happening to you. We checked, Nat, we kept you out for a couple of days and ran every test we could think of, and found nothing. I checked your body chemistry down to the last atom, twice, and I couldn’t find any change either. Physically, you are no different to how you were before all this began. Which means it must be psychological. We’ve been through the file you read, and quite honestly, I’m amazed you could even function at all once you recovered those memories! Never mind PTSD, any lesser person would have been catatonic, having all that trauma thrust into their head all at once! It explains why you did what you did then, and why it’s happening again now – it was self-defence. Your subconscious was trying to protect you from the horrors, first by using your powers to attack back, and then by blocking the entire experience from your mind. That’s why it has never happened again, until now, until you forced your way past the barriers in your head by reading that file.”_

Tanya paused the footage. "Right before she disappeared, she was in Goravitch's bunker," she murmured, her full of quietly simmering anger. "I can only assume that was why she was there, to steal his files."

Luella made a sound of dawning comprehension. “That’s why she went back to the Red Room! Looking for dirt on Goravitch! So it must have been some point in the last year, after he –“ she halted that sentence abruptly, seeing the flash of savage fury in Tanya’s eyes. She hastily moved on. “She couldn’t track him down in the present, so she went looking in the past! And in the process, discovered her own file, and triggered her own abilities.” She winced ruefully. “Ouch.”

“Quite,” Tanya said curtly. Her hands were clenched into fists again.

I fought down a surge of outrage that Tanya had _known_ that I had travelled in time, must have known that it hadn’t been my fault that I had been forced to leave her, and had still punished me for it! Then, swallowing, I forced myself to see it from her perspective. I remembered what she had said that morning, her demand to know what could possibly have prevented me from returning for her… and I realised, with a pang, that to her, the deduction that time travel was involved had actually made things worse. Not only must she have realised that I had callously used her test as a distraction to gain access to the bunker, but also, in her eyes, what possible excuse could I have, if I had a time machine, for not returning for her? The stark truth, that I had chosen not to, that I had chosen Melanie over her, was painfully obvious.

“It matters little,” Tanya said, and I winced at the steadily rising anger in her tone. “She’s here now, and we can finally move on to the next stage.” I saw her gaze move broodingly to the bottom right corner of the screen. Craning my neck slightly, I realised what she was looking at – another countdown, identical to the one I had noticed in her quarters, the seconds relentlessly ticking away. It was down to forty-three days, five hours, and twelve minutes.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go ahead?” Luella asked tentatively. When Tanya remained silent, her furious gaze fixated, she warily inched closer and laid a hand on her arm. “Tanya,” she said, nervously, but determinedly. “Please. We don’t have time for you to lose your focus.” I saw her eyes flick to the countdown, then away. “Won’t you use the machine again? Take the edge off?” Tanya shook her head stubbornly. “Then, please, at least let me arrange for you an expendable,” Luella pleaded. “Get it out of your system.”

Tanya gave an irritable snort. “Do we even have any left? Antonin seems to be going through them by the dozen.”

Luella pulled a face. “Well it’s hard work keeping him calm, since you took away control of his pet project,” she replied sourly. My ears pricked up curiously at that. “But yes, we have some to spare,” Luella went on. She rolled her eyes. “Sergei’s dear friend Yuri, for one. And our friends in North Korea just obliged with another batch. I’ve had them tested, and the majority of them are actually guilty for once.”

Tanya scowled. “Don’t tell me Kim has finally caught on to the fact that I’m not going to torture people to death just for disagreeing with his regime.” She let out a frustrated sound through her teeth. “Remind me why I haven’t killed him yet?” Her fingers flexed, and that feral light gleamed disturbingly in her eyes again, as though she yearned to wrap her hands around the man’s neck.

Luella sighed. “Because we’re going to need him,” she said patiently. “Or rather, we’re going to need the world’s largest standing army and his ridiculous number of nuclear missiles.” She stood up and rubbed Tanya’s shoulders, firmly massaging. “Killing the bastard would create chaos we can’t afford right now, no matter how satisfying it would be. We can free his people only if we succeed, remember?”

“I retain all details of the plan,” Tanya snapped, her tension not easing despite Luella’s kneading hands. I frowned to myself, distracted from my growing alarm at the turn the conversation had taken; that was a strange way of putting it, I thought, puzzled. As though, impossibly, there _were_ some things that Tanya forgot…

Luella seemed to supress another sigh with difficulty. “Please,” she pleaded again, giving up her attempt at massage and squatting beside her chair to look into her eyes. “Please take an expendable. Get this rage out of your system before you deal with Romanoff. And please, for the love of god, don’t make her watch. She’s been punished enough.”

“Has she?” Tanya snarled.

Luella seemed undaunted, defiant in the face of her anger. “Yes, she has! For god’s sake, you almost burned her friends to death in their own home! Do you need any other evidence that you’re getting out of control? What were you _thinking_?”

Tanya scowled again, averting her eyes. “I wouldn’t have let them die,” she muttered. “I sent them a warning, I knew the Angel would get them there in time, but if she didn’t, I would have pulled them out.”

“Would you?” Luella said quietly.

Tanya gritted her teeth and didn’t answer. Luella took her silence as a confession. “At least be thankful they did get there in time,” she said grimly. “Romanoff is hating you pretty badly right now, but she also still cares about you, underneath it all. You’ve pushed her to the edge, but I don’t think she has _quite_ passed the point of no forgiveness. She certainly would have, if her friends had died.” She studied her superior intently for a second. “You know you went too far. That’s why you released her, isn’t it?” Her tone softened. “You know she’s been punished enough. Between her friends, the kids, and whatever sick crap Goravitch did to her, she has paid for what she did to you.”

“Perhaps,” Tanya muttered, but she did not relax. If anything, her tension seemed to increase, her shoulders trembling with supressed fury. I could see her struggling to contain it, and inwardly quailed. It reminded me so forcefully of my own struggles to contain my inner demon, the feeling that my sanity was hanging by a thread.

Luella slowly stepped back, anguish warring with dread as she recognised the woman was close to snapping. “You need to get this out of your system,” she told her quietly. “I’ll have an expendable sent to your quarters, and move Romanoff.” She waited a moment, then, when Tanya did not respond, added a soft plea. “Please,” she whispered. “For me.”

Finally, Tanya returned a brief nod. Looking relieved, Luella didn’t wait for a dismissal, but turned and left so quickly I was almost left behind. Swearing, hoping fervently that Tanya was too preoccupied to notice the flash of movement, I shot out from my hiding place and hurled myself once more into Luella’s departing shadow.

Luella wasted no time, hurrying back the way she had come while simultaneously tapping away at her wrist communicator. I silently cursed that she was returning to me so soon, without leading me to the children as I had hoped, but her stated intention to move me from Tanya’s quarters did give me a slight glimmer of hope. At least, by the sound of it, Tanya was going to be occupied for a while, and with luck, wherever Luella was planning to relocate me to would be somewhere I might gain further opportunities to scout.

Once back inside the lobby of Tanya’s personal domain, Luella paused long enough to have a few words with the two guards still diligently at their posts outside the door. I took the opportunity to make a dash back for my body, which, I was relieved to find, was still lying right where I left it. I experienced the now familiar jolt of disorientation as my consciousness returned to its place within my physical shell. I sat up, blinking, for all the world as if I had just been awakened from a nap, as Luella strode into the room.

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow at my position, stretched out on Tanya’s bed as if I had every right to make myself at home. “You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that,” she remarked.

I shrugged, feigning irritation. “What are you doing back here already? Don’t tell me you’re here to share afternoon tea this time?”

Luella rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she said sarcastically. “Now come on, get up. It’s time to go.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Go where?” I asked suspiciously, not moving.

“Somewhere safe.”

“And why should I believe you?” I asked with a derisive snort.

Luella threw her hands up in exasperation. “For the love of peace, Romanoff, will you cool it with the attitude for five seconds? Believe it or not, I am throwing you a bone here! But if you’d rather stick around and witness what happens when she really lets herself go, be my guest!” She made as if to turn on her heel.

“Alright, alright!” I said hurriedly. “I’m coming!” I slid out of bed, and wrapped the silk robe a little more tightly around me, wishing heartily that I still had my own clothing, but thankful that I at least wasn’t going to be forced to parade the corridors naked. I got the feeling that Luella would have found that entertaining. Glowering at her smug look of triumph, I followed her out into the luxurious lobby, glancing around with interest. It all looked slightly different from this perspective. The guards outside the door made no protest to my leaving, though their eyes followed me suspiciously; presumably they had their orders.

I expected Luella to lead me through the doors she had used earlier, but to my slight surprise she turned to the left, and halted after a few paces in front of what was clearly an elevator. She pressed the button, and the doors immediately slid open. A little warily, I followed her inside, feeling uneasy in the enclosed space. There were only two floor options. Luella depressed the bottom one.

“Where are we going?” I asked again over the slight lurch of the stomach that accompanied the elevator’s downward movement.

“You’ll see in a sec.”

Even as she spoke, the downward motion ceased, and the doors slid open again. The journey was so quick we could be no more than two floors down, and I doubted we had gone even that far; I suspected we were on the floor immediately below Tanya’s quarters.

Stepping out of the elevator, I blinked in surprise. The room I now found myself in was larger than the lobby we had just left, and quite as luxurious. It looked remarkably similar to the common lounge at the facility – a variety of soft couches and comfortable chairs, strategically places coffee tables, a large flatscreen tv, a small bar. A large table stood to one side with food and drink laid out like a buffet. The room was lined with doors, a couple of them standing ajar, giving me a glimpse of what looked like personal sleeping quarters.

“This is where you live?” I hazarded a guess, frowning.

Luella threw me a smile. “When I’m off duty,” she replied. “I have quarters with the specialists for receiving clients, but those are very… impersonal, shall we say. This is my personal space. Not that this is all for me, of course,” she added, her smile widening as though she anticipated my reaction to what she was about to reveal to be highly entertaining. “I told you, Tanya enjoys many women, but those select few that become her favourites are granted quarters here. She likes to keep us close at hand, for our protection. And, well,” she winked, “for other obvious reasons.”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “You’re telling me this is her _harem_?” I snapped, furious with myself for feeling an immediate and powerful flush of arousal. My over-active imagination painted a vivid picture of scantily clad women lounging indolently on those comfortable couches, of many nubile bodies entwined in pleasure… I shook myself with an inward curse, sternly ordering my head out of the gutter.

Luella grinned. Evidently my reaction had been all she hoped for. “Call it what you like,” she replied. She cast me a mocking look. “You really shouldn’t be so judgemental. It’s not like anyone is here against their will, or is forced to do anything they don’t want to do.”

I snorted. “Like you wanted to be flayed alive last night?”

Luella winced. “That’s different.”

“Sure it is,” I said bitterly. “I forgot, you’re _special_.”

She bridled at my scornful tone, but whatever retort she was about to make was interrupted by one of the doors opening. A tall woman stepped out. I guessed she was around forty years old, her brown hair threaded with a few streaks of grey, but her classically beautiful face was unlined, her hazel eyes bright and clear. She stopped short at the sight of us. “Luella,” she greeted my companion with a smile, before throwing a slightly confused glance at me. Or more likely, at my strange attire, although for all I knew barefoot strangers wearing nothing but a skimpy robe were a common sight in this place. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine, Nadia,” Luella replied, relaxing. She smiled at the newcomer. “I was hoping to catch you off duty. Do you have a few minutes?” Her expression became chagrined, almost guilty. “I think I may have popped a few stitches.”

The woman she had called Nadia raised her eyes heavenwards in exasperation, but her response was kind. “Of course. Come on in.” She gestured back at the room she had just left, then cast another questioning glance at me.

“It’s okay, she knows,” Luella told her with another grimace. Nadia’s lips pursed in evident disapproval, but she stood aside to let me pass. Luella indicated I should enter the room first with a nod of her head, then the two of them followed me inside.

The comfortable room I found myself in now was clearly the bedroom of someone with a very tidy mind, evidenced by the almost military precision in which every object within it was placed, and the books arranged alphabetically by author on the shelves. One thing seemed odd; a medical gurney, like one that might grace a doctors surgery, stood in one corner, complete with blue paper covering.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Nadia was scolding, helping Luella out of her jacket. The woman was almost as pale as her hair, I noticed, and as she turned to ease her arm out of the jacket I saw bright splotches of red marring the previously pristine white bandages swathing her back. With a grimace, I remembered the fleeting look of pain when Tanya had slammed her against the wall in her office. “Do you want the damage to be permanent?” Nadia continued her stern lecture, rolling the gurney out of its corner and ushering Luella onto it.

Luella rolled her eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” she replied irritably, lying down gingerly on her front.

“You never do,” Nadia retorted, now rummaging in a cupboard holding rows and rows of neatly stacked and labelled medical supplies. I looked back at Luella and raised an eyebrow in question.

“This is Nadia,” Luella explained tiredly. “She’s a doctor. One of our senior medical officers.” She smiled at the woman. “She’s handy to have around when you need patching up.”

“Which you need all too often,” Nadia said disapprovingly, returning with her hands full of fresh bandages and casting me a glare as if she suspected Luella’s condition was my fault.

“Its not her fault, Nads,” Luella said wearily. “She didn’t ask to be here, or to witness what happened last night. Rather the opposite, eh, Romanoff?”

Nadia’s eyes widened. “You’re Natasha Romanoff?” she blurted, her mouth falling open as though starstruck.

“Yes,” I said resentfully, glaring at Luella. 

Luella gave a little chuckle that turned into a wince of pain as Nadia shook herself out of her stunned amazement and began peeling off the stained dressings. “Relax, Romanoff. Nadia has been with Tanya the longest, after me. She knows a lot of things most people don’t, and she knows how to keep her mouth shut about things others don't need to be aware of.”

“Like the fact that Tanya beats the stuffing out of you on a regular basis?” I demanded sourly.

Luella flushed angrily. “I told you, it doesn’t happen that often!”

“It happens more often than it should,” Nadia muttered. She stroked Luella’s hair back tenderly, her expression full of concern. “She’s getting worse lately. Can’t you persuade her to use the machine again?” she asked beseechingly.

Luella sighed. “She won’t. She can’t risk it, not so close to –“ she snapped her mouth shut abruptly. “She just can’t right now,” she said instead, avoiding my gaze. “She promised she will, when this is over. But until then…” She sighed again, looking conflicted. “I’ve sent her an expendable. A particularly unpleasant serial child-molester, along with his complete file. Hopefully by the time she’s finished giving him exactly what he deserves, she’ll have got the worst of it out of her system. That should keep her going for a while.”

Nadia looked pained, but said nothing, applying herself to re-stitching the two deepest wounds on Luella’s back. Glancing between them, I opened my mouth to ask what this machine was I kept hearing mentioned, but as though she could guess my thoughts, Luella spoke first, changing the subject. “Speaking of the expendables, how is Sergei’s little Yasmine doing?” she asked between slight winces of pain. “I haven’t had chance to check up on her since I got back.”

Nadia’s expression softened. “She’s doing okay. Nicola took some leave to stay with her,” she said with an indulgent smile. “From the way they’re attached at the hip the last couple of days, I don’t think it took long for the girl to feel safe with her, and to be dissuaded from the horrid notion that her feelings for women are an abomination to God. You did right to bring her here. Young Nic is exactly what she needs.” Her eyes hardened. “The poor mite was sold into slavery by her own family for her inclinations, can you believe that? That places still exist where such feelings are so despised, parents will actually condemn their own children to such a fate?” She shuddered. “Even more unbelievable that one of our own men would actually stoop to buying and keeping the poor thing.” Her mouth tightened with anger. “I hope Sergei has paid for his crimes.”

“He has,” Luella said shortly.

“Sergei?” I interjected curiously. “The pilot? The one she –“

“Yes,” Luella cut me off, with a look that warned me Nadia did not need the precise details of what had befallen the man. Seeing my frustration, she elaborated with a sigh. “Sergei was involved in human trafficking of young women from Syria, a fact we didn’t know until a few weeks ago, when he accidently let something slip to one of the specialists. On discreet investigation, we found out not only was he slipping truckloads of terrified girls across the border, he had helped himself to one of them. Poor Yasmine was his personal plaything, and he rented her out to a friend of his while he was serving away. Tanya sent me to liberate her, and put a stop to the operation, while she took Sergei with her to keep him from suspecting anything.”

“That’s why she killed him?” I murmured, a little stunned. I remembered wondering what the man had done to deserve the gruesome death she had expected, before my lack of performance forced her to terminate the man herself. Now I had an answer, I wasn’t sure whether to believe it. It seemed so very illogical, hypocritical even, to execute a man for such crimes when she herself was guilty of deeds just as heinous.

“Of course,” Luella answered, rolling her eyes at my dubious expression. “What were you thinking, that she kills whoever she wants whenever she feels like it? I keep telling you she isn’t like that! She deplores waste. Yes, she kills, but only those who deserve it!"

“And these so-called expendables deserve it, do they?” I demanded with a bad taste in my mouth. “They really deserve to be tortured to death?”

“Hell yes,” Luella retorted grimly. “I assure you, they forfeited their human rights when they chose to do the disgusting things they did! There would be a lot less of those kind of crimes in the world if people knew that was what they could expect, rather than a few years in a cushy prison cell and a painless end! And only then if they couldn’t buy or bully their way out of it. Putting an end to that kind of corruption was one of the reasons she ousted the Brethren in the first place. Hydra is an organisation of law and order, not monsters.”

“Is it now?” I snapped, a fresh surge of fury making my fists clench. “Then why are Goravitch and Skuler still breathing?”

Nadia visibly suppressed a shudder at those names. She finished replacing the dressings on Luella’s wounds and hurriedly turned away to tidy up as the blonde woman slowly sat up. She seemed unsurprised by the question, and my anger. Her expression was conflicted, but resigned. “Those two are… special cases. I told you, sometimes evil deeds are necessary for the greater good, as are the ones that perpetrate them, provided their activities are kept under control.” She winced. “What happened a year ago… it was a case of bad timing. Tanya was distracted, and Goravitch slipped his leash. Skuler doesn’t have the brains to think for himself, he just followed his master’s lead. If it helps at all, they were both severely punished.”

“No,” I growled, glowering at her. “It doesn’t help.”

“Here,” Nadia intervened before things got ugly, stepping between us and offering her some tablets on her palm, and a glass of water. “Take these. For the pain.”

Luella eyed the pills with disfavour. “You know I can’t take those,” she said grumpily. “They’ll make me groggy. I can’t afford my reflexes to be off.”

Nadia sighed. “Would it kill you to take a day off and let yourself recover?”

“I don’t have time,” Luella replied shortly, sliding off the gurney. She smiled affectionately at the older woman’s concern. “I’ll be fine, Nads. Its not that bad. Really. I promise, once this is over,” she avoided my eyes again, “I’ll take all the leave I’m owed. Just not now.” Nadia made a quiet, disbelieving noise which Luella determinedly ignored, leading the way back out into the main room. “Thanks for your help, as always. I hope I haven’t made you late for anything?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Nadia returned, shrugging. “There’s nothing more serious than a few cases of flu in the infirmary right now. Helen’s last batch are due another check-up though, I was about to head down and – oh, speak of the devil! Helen!”

I swung around to check out the latest arrival, and my mouth dropped open, a jolt of shock rooting me to the spot.

The black-haired woman didn’t notice me straight away, her preoccupied gaze locked on the screen of the tablet in her hands, softly murmuring to herself.

“Everything alright, Helen?” Nadia asked kindly.

The woman stopped, looking briefly confused as she raised her eyes. “What? Oh, Nadia, hi. Sorry, yes, I’m fine, I’m just trying to work out the saturation levels of –“ She never completed the sentence. At that moment her gaze landed on me, and she stuttered to a halt, her face turning pale at the unmistakable outraged recognition twisting my features.

“Ah crap,” I heard Luella mutter. I barely registered her chagrin, too busy staring in disbelief and anger at the person before me. My eyes surely must be playing tricks on me. There was no way this person could be _here_ , wandering freely into living quarters reserved for those who shared the most intimate favours with the leader of Hydra. How was it possible that she was here, unfettered and perfectly healthy, when my friends and I had spent _weeks_ agonising over her fate, wracked with guilt that we were unable to liberate her. She was supposed to be languishing in a dungeon, miserable and terrified, not frowning over a tablet as though she were merely slightly stressed!

Nadia looked between us, surprised by the growing tension. “Do you two know each other?”

The newcomer winced. “Um. Yes.” She took a deep breath, and looked me in the eyes, her expression beseeching. “Nat… I can explain,” said Helen Cho.


	5. 5.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha penetrates further into Tanya's stronghold.

“Nat… I can explain,” Cho said, taking a step back.

“ _Explain_?” I hissed, rage closing my throat so I could barely get the words out. “Damn _right_ you’d better be able to explain! Do you have any idea what we’ve been going through trying to find you? How worried we’ve been? And now you’re actually telling me you’ve been – you’ve been –“ Words failed me entirely as I looked around the luxurious room again and my imagination assaulted me once more, but this time the nubile bodies I saw had recognisable faces. I saw Tanya, sitting amongst all those females, smirking as they fought for the honour of pleasuring her. I saw Cho, naked and eager, lowering her face between those beautifully sculpted thighs…

“What the hell are you thinking!” I yelled, surging forward to grab Cho by the front of her black and green tunic. Cho dropped the tablet with a squeak of fear as I shook her like a rat. “You stupid bitch! You’re not even into women! How could you? How could you let her seduce you into working for her!”

It was all suddenly crystal clear. Goravitch had been removed from control of the project, Luella had said. No doubt his impatience had got the better of him, and his brutal tactics had been threatening to derail the whole enterprise. The task of integrating vibranium into a living biological system took time and patience and subtlety if it was to be successful, as Melanie and Bruce had demonstrated with Kevlar the rat. Goravitch simply didn’t have the temperament for such an undertaking. But Helen Cho did. It had been her idea in the first place, after all. And while she had always been a woman of sound morals, of integrity, apparently Tanya had very quickly managed to deprive her of those principles. It was Cho who was in charge of building Tanya’s mutant army.

A red rage threatened to deprive me of reason.

“Nat!” Cho choked frantically as my fury made me twist her collar painfully, my limbs shaking uncontrollably, barely conscious of anything but the desire to make her pay for this betrayal. “Nat please! You’re hurting me!”

Abruptly an arm was around my own throat, forcing me to drop Cho as my hands went automatically to my own defence. Luella wrestled me back a few steps, skilfully avoiding my backhand blow, and gripped my wrist with her free hand, twisting my arm behind my back and putting her mouth next to my ear. “Stop it, Romanoff,” she ordered, her voice no more than a whisper but as hard as steel. “If you want those children to ever see their parents again, stop this right now!”

Her words brought me to my senses. I let out a strangled noise of rage and anguish, but she had me, and she knew it. The taste of defeat bitter in my mouth, I allowed myself to go limp in her hold.

Nadia was staring at me as though _I_ were the deranged psychopath in this establishment, her arms around Cho, who huddled white-faced against her shoulder. I felt a sudden pang of guilt and regret, seeing the marks on her neck, the pain and fear in her eyes. Why had I hurt her? I squeezed my eyes shut, my head throbbing. This was all so intolerable, and so confusing. How had I become the bad guy here?

Luella warily relaxed her choke hold, but stayed right beside me, poised to grab me again if necessary. “Easy Romanoff,” she murmured, and I was surprised to hear a genuine-sounding note of concern in her tone. “I know this is all a lot to take in, but try and keep calm, okay? You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Belatedly, I realised I was still shaking, my expression twisted with the deep conflict I was feeling. Of course, I thought, Luella knew about the homicidal reflex I’d been grappling with. She was afraid I was going to lose it. She was right to fear; I had been a hairs-breadth away. And yet she had not hesitated to put herself in harm’s way to keep me from hurting the others. I had to admire her bravery, although it also bolstered the sense I had gotten of her on our first meeting – the woman was borderline suicidal.

Suddenly the realisation of what I had almost done sank in, and I had to grit my teeth against the appalled heaving of my stomach. I might be furious with Cho, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be ripped into tiny pieces! I seriously needed to get a grip on myself! Forcing myself to breathe slowly in and out, I gradually calmed. Once I was sure I was in control, I pulled away from Luella. Shivering with the chill of reaction, I wrapped my skimpy robe closer around me, studiously not looking at Cho.

“Come on,” Luella said quietly. “Come with me. You two carry on,” she added to the others. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

Dully, I allowed Luella to lead me away. At this moment I didn’t care where, as long as it was nowhere near Cho, or Tanya, or anyone else that made me want to kill things. I felt so guilty about my near-miss, I would have almost welcomed being locked in a cell. All that happened, however, was that Luella led me to one of the other doors lining the room, opening it and ushering me into what was clearly her own private chambers.

Luella firmly locked the door. “Sit down,” she said, not unkindly, indicating the bed. “Let me find you some clothes. I imagine that will help.” Her eyes went to my hands, clutching my robe closed over my chest.

Grudgingly, I nodded. She was right, clothes would help a lot. The barely adequate robe did little to counteract how naked I felt right now, as though every nerve was exposed and raw. Gingerly, I sat down on the end of the bed and looked around while she rummaged in a wardrobe.

Her room was smaller than I would have expected. Cosy, was the word that sprang to mind. The metal walls were hung with pictures and tapestries, the floor swathed in soft rugs, the bed covered in novelty cushions. I raised an eyebrow at a few stuffed animals nestling amongst the pillows, wondering if I was losing my mind; it seemed vaguely ludicrous that the woman who had just had me in a choke hold was also the owner of a rainbow teddy bear and a stuffed unicorn. Above the headboard was a large corkboard, covered in a collage of photographs. Curious, I shuffled nearer to peer at them. They looked like the sort of thing a gap-year student might put in their journal after a world trip. Pictures of snow-capped mountains, waterfalls, rugged stone landscapes I recognised as being part of the Grand Canyon. I recognised Luella in some of the photos, posing beside an enormous Buddha statue, jumping from a tall rock into a forest pool, leaning against an Easter Island head. A lump came into my throat as my eyes fell on another image, a ‘selfie’. Tanya and Luella snuggled together in a string hammock, looking carefree and happy, laughing at the camera.

“Once a year,” Luella said quietly, making me jump guiltily. She silently handed me some clothes, then reached up and unpinned the selfie from the board, sitting down beside me on the bed and looking at it with a bittersweet smile. “Once a year, she used to take me away somewhere. She couldn’t forget her responsibilities, but she could pretend to, occasionally. So once a year, we would slip away, and for a week or two, we would pretend to forget who we were. We would pretend to be a normal couple, doing all the normal things neither of us had ever had a chance to do. We would see sights and swim and walk along beaches and eat ice-cream. It was like escaping into a dream. A really good dream.”

“Used to?” I asked quietly, an ache in my chest.

Luella sighed, and replaced the picture on the board. “The Snap hit her hard. For someone who is so intensely present in every moment, who sees every detail of the world, every person and tree and flower, every bird and bee and spider…” She shook her head, wincing. “I don’t think any of us can truly understand what she experienced, how damaging it was for her, seeing half of all the life around her just cease to exist like that. She was catatonic for days. I was going out of my mind, nothing I did seemed to reach her. And then when she finally came around… to find half her people gone, young people she had raised and nurtured from childhood, kids she had gone to so much effort to save, everything she had tried to do for them, rendered pointless in a heartbeat.” Luella sighed again, heavily. “She was never the same after that. She had always been driven, certain of her vision, but after that she became obsessed. It was like nothing else mattered anymore.” She looked sadly at the photographs again. “She couldn’t take time away anymore, couldn’t pretend to forget, not even for a day. It was like the Decimation made her desperate, made her determined that what was left of the world _had_ to be saved, whatever the cost. After the Return, I hoped that feeling might ease a little, but it only seemed to strengthen it. Made it even more vital for her plans to succeed.”

I stared at the neatly folded clothing in my hands, my thoughts churning. “She really believes that she’s saving the world? That she’s some kind of messiah?”

“Something like that,” she replied wearily.

I eyed her dubiously. “And do you believe that?”

Luella set her jaw. “I believe,” she said carefully, “in her vision. I believe that she is doing everything she can to save this world.”

 _Save it from what?_ I wondered. Studying Luella’s determined face, I almost asked, then decided the question was pointless. Instead, I shook out the clothing she had given me, grimacing slightly in distaste at the green and black uniform with its octopus logo on the breast and arm. But I wasn’t going to be picky if it meant I could be decently covered again. I gave Luella a meaningful glare; she rolled her eyes but obligingly turned her back while I changed. She and I were a similar size, her clothing fit well enough. The boots were slightly too big, but I would manage. It was a relief to have footwear again. The prospect of making an escape attempt barefoot had not been appealing.

“What now?” I asked a little resentfully, catching sight of myself in a mirror and heartily disliking what I saw. It felt like a tiny defeat, a step towards betraying what I believed in, to have willingly donned Tanya’s colours. I firmly pushed the thought away.

“Would you like to see the children?” Luella asked with a smile.

My heart leapt. “You’ll take me to them?”

“No,” she answered apologetically. “Sorry. I’d like to, but you know I can’t. There are limits. But I can show them to you, if you like.” Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up and crossed the room, pulling aside a curtain to reveal a workbench holding a computer with an oversize screen. “Tanya offered to set me up with one of those new-fangled hologrammatic arrays she likes so much,” she said conversationally, “but to be quite honest, they drive me nuts. I prefer old school. More tactile.” She flicked the computer on and pulled the keyboard towards her, her fingers swiftly inputting a complex password. A few more seconds, and I saw she was bringing up a networked surveillance system, but irritatingly I couldn’t pinpoint the location of the camera she isolated. I quickly forgot my annoyance, however, as she maximised the window, and live footage appeared on the screen. I pressed closer, my heart thumping at the sight of those four familiar faces.

Luella had not lied, I saw with great relief. The children looked perfectly healthy, and the room they were in was certainly as comfortable as this one, with a tv and a PlayStation and a selection of toys. Not that the children were playing with them. No, they appeared to have an entirely different purpose in mind.

“Huh,” Luella remarked in surprised admiration. “Clever little things, aren’t they?”

I made no answer, my heart breaking as I watched them work. Lila was obviously acting lookout, watching the door. Behind the cover of the sofa, Nathaniel was systematically dismantling the PlayStation with the tweezers from a game of operation and a screwdriver he appeared to have made out of a piece of Meccano and a flattened bottle top. Beside him, Cooper and Morgan were very busy indeed, combing through the growing pile of electrical components and other dismembered toy parts. Cooper looked to be talking Morgan through what they were making, and a device was taking shape under her clever fingers.

“Is that a telegraph machine?” Luella asked, peering at the screen with interest. She glanced at me with raised eyebrows. “You’re telling me those kids know morse code?”

“Cooper and Lila do,” I said softly, a lump in my throat. I was so proud of them for not giving up, for actually having the bravery and resourcefulness to come up with a plan. “After they heard the story of how I got taken prisoner by Ultron, how I managed to build a telegraph and morse Hawkeye my location, they begged us to teach them. They nearly drove Laura mad, forever knocking on things, tapping messages at each other across the house. Clint and I thought it was hilarious. At least until Clint found them trying to build a telegraph machine in the garage. We had to have a serious talk with them after that, all about how important it was that the farm stay under the radar, and how random morse code signals would tend to jeopardise that.” A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. I could see it so clearly in my mind’s eye. So vividly that for a second I could pretend the farm was still there, still a perfect safe haven, rather than a smouldering pile of rubble.

“Damn,” Luella said, looking impressed. “Those are some smart kids. Pity you didn’t teach them how to search for surveillance equipment.” She scowled. “Although I seriously don’t know what Tanya pays those fools in security for, because they clearly aren’t paying attention!” She sighed, her scowl fading. “I suppose I’ll have to remedy that, and send someone to confiscate their ingenious little contraption.” She sounded almost sad.

“Do you have to?” I asked wistfully. “It won’t work underwater anyway. Its giving them hope, giving them something to focus on. Can’t you let them have their little victory?” I blinked back tears, watching them working together with such determination. “They’ll find out its hopeless soon enough. Can’t you let them be?”

Luella winced. “I’m sorry,” she said simply, and it actually sounded like she meant it. “Have you seen enough?”

 _No!_ my head insisted emphatically. I was satisfied that the children were alright, but that didn’t stop my gut from twisting with the irrational fear that they would cease to be so the minute I could no longer see them. “I guess,” I whispered reluctantly.

Luella looked genuinely regretful as she cut the feed and shut the computer off. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’d let you keep watching but I’m pushing it already, disobeying another direct order today. If I stay in the system any longer, security are bound to notice and report it, and I’d rather not risk getting her stirred up again.” She cast me a strained smile. “I don’t see how it can do any harm to let you see them, but Tanya isn’t exactly the soul of logic and reason when it comes to you.”

“I noticed,” I muttered darkly. I looked up at her, resentment warring with gratitude that she had bent her orders a little to give me some peace of mind, although I suspected her motives for doing so had more to do with keeping me calm than sympathy. “Now what?”

“Now,” Luella replied, checking her wrist communicator with a frown, “I have some errands to run. Come with me.”

Frowning, I followed her out of the room. She led me to a different door and opened it, and I saw it was another bedroom, apparently unoccupied from the lack of any personal effects. “You can stay in here while I’m gone,” she said, indicating I should enter with a quick jerk of her head. Rolling my eyes, I did as instructed and sat down on the bare mattress. “That a girl,” she said approvingly. “Now you just chill out here for a couple of hours. Meditate, do yoga, whatever you do to keep a handle on those temper issues. The bathroom is through there. I’ll let you out when I get back, and as long as you promise to behave, we can have dinner with the others. Deal?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She widened her eyes at me in mock hurt. “Of course you have a choice. I can march you down to the detention block and lock you in a cell with a load of murderers and rapists if you prefer?”

I pulled a face. “Fine,” I said sourly. “I’ll be good.”

She nodded, satisfied, and closed the door. I heard the lock click, the scrape of the key being removed, and her footsteps walking away.

Quick as a flash, I wriggled back on the mattress. It was probably pushing my luck, pretending to have another nap, but Luella’s words had given me another idea. I quickly arranged myself cross-legged, hands resting lightly on my knees in a meditative pose. Splitting into my shadow, I viewed the result approvingly, then once more set off in pursuit of Luella. I was determined to stick to the woman like glue. Sooner or later, she had to lead me to the children, and in the meantime, she was my best bet for finding out what Tanya was up to. I had no doubt that the ‘errands’ she needed to run were tasks for her.

I followed her back into the same elevator we had arrived in a little apprehensively, remembering it only had a choice of two destinations. I had no desire to see or hear what was happening in Tanya’s quarters right now. There was therefore a good dose of relief mixed in with my surprise when Luella waited for the doors to close, then flicked the back of her hand casually over a seemingly blank panel beneath the buttons. A new hologrammatic display instantly appeared, triggered by the access chip implanted in her hand. My brows rose as she selected an option and we shuddered into motion, descending further into the ship. It seemed Tanya had seen fit to give her most trusted aides a private means of getting around. _Very private_ , I added mentally, my brows rising even further as the doors opened onto what was unmistakably a janitors storeroom, with mops and brushes stacked neatly against the wall and rows of shelves holding cleaning supplies. Once the doors slid closed again, they blended with the wall so perfectly that I doubted anyone would suspect the elevator was there.

Luella carefully stepped over a bucket directly in her path and listened intently at the door for a moment before opening it and emerging into a deserted corridor. There were no windows this time, no view into the central hangar to clue me to our whereabouts, but judging by the length of time the elevator had been in motion I calculated we were somewhere in the lower decks.

 _Into the belly of the beast_ , I remarked sardonically in my head. I felt a stir of excitement. Surely whatever was down here was vitally important to Tanya’s plans. Perhaps I was about to get my first glimpse of her new mutant army.

The corridor dead-ended in a single non-descript door, another two guards posted either side of the portal. They came to attention and saluted as Luella appeared around the corner.

“At ease,” Luella said. I couldn’t see her face from this angle, but it sounded like she rolled her eyes. “Anything to report?”

The guards relaxed. “Nothing, ma’am,” the one on the right replied, her tone respectful. “Other than the cleaning crew, you’re the first to come down here all day.”

“Good,” Luella said idly. “You’re doing an excellent job. Stay alert.” She indicated the door. “If you would?”

“Certainly, ma’am.” The guard pulled an access card out of her pocket and buzzed the door open. I wondered if Luella really didn’t have access to this door or if she was just being polite. Eaten alive with curiosity, I stuck with my guide eagerly as she pushed through the door.

I stopped dead, almost losing my place within Luella’s shadow in shock. What lay on the other side of that door was not a lab, or a staging area, or a war room.

I stared, certain that I must have finally gone mad. Because what I had just walked into was… a coffee morning. Immediately in front of me, four women sat chatting easily on comfortable couches, a couple of them breast-feeding babies, the others holding infants on their laps. A fifth woman was busy making drinks in a homey-looking open-plan kitchen to the left, a toddler hanging on her skirt, and a low buzz of conversation emanated from a half-open door on the right, indicating the presence of more adults in rooms beyond this one. The entire far side of the room was safely fenced off, and from that direction the high-pitched shrieks of small children at play assaulted my ears. Half a dozen youngsters, the oldest no more than five, cavorted in a play-frame or played with the toys scattered all over the floor, supervised by another woman and a young man. Two slightly older girls, perhaps seven or eight, sat at a small table, crayons in their fists, happily covering reams of paper with their coloured scrawls.

“What the hell?” I muttered, bewildered.

The woman in the kitchen called out cheerfully as we entered. “Luella,” she greeted my unofficial guide, speaking English with a strong Canadian accent. “Good timing! I’m just making drinks, would you like one? Coffee? Tea?”

“Sorry, Sara, I can’t stop this time,” Luella returned apologetically. “I just came by to see how you were all doing. See if you need anything.” She cast a fond look in the direction of the playing children before taking a seat on a couch beside one of the breast-feeding mothers, a tiny Chinese woman. Another of the group was also Chinese, I noted, as was the young woman who was supervising the play area. The young man with her, on the other hand, looked to be from the Indian sub-continent.

“How are these little guys doing?” Luella asked, bestowing a doting smile on the babies. One of the infants wriggled off his mother’s knee and tottered over to her with the wobbly steps of a child very new to the skill. “Wow, look at you, Tommy!” she told the little boy, evidently delighted, stretching out her arms to him and scooping him up. “Walking already! You’re growing so fast!”

The child’s mother smiled indulgently. “Don’t they just,” she said wryly. She too spoke English, with an Australian twang to her words. “I swear it was only yesterday Lisa was finding her feet,” she added, with an affectionate look over at one of the girls sat drawing.

“Childhood is fleeting,” one of the Chinese women said, smiling down at her own infant. “One must savour it while it lasts.” She glanced at Luella. “And give thanks that one has the opportunity to do so.”

Luella inclined her head slightly, but didn’t reply to the strange comment. A cold feeling settled like a lump of lead in my stomach. What had Maria told me? The villages that had disappeared… from Canada, Australia, China, Argentina, Nepal… the people in this room matched those points of origin perfectly.

 _What the hell?_ My inner voice was a howl of frustration. First Cho, and now the kidnapped villagers? What the hell was going on? I had expected to find those few who escaped being forcibly turned into mutants locked in cells, baying for blood! Not sitting here calmly waiting for coffee, watching their children jump in a ball pit like it was a Saturday morning at the local creche!

At that moment the girl Lisa ran over, throwing herself on Luella with childish glee. Her playmate followed more slowly, keeping her distance as though shy.

“Miss Luella!” the child crowed. “You came to see us! I drew you a picture!” She brandished a piece of paper under Luella’s nose.

Luella laughed at her exuberance, giving the child a quick one-armed hug with due care for the toddler on her knee. “Why thank you, Lisa. Oh, that is beautiful,” she exclaimed, smoothing out the crayoned picture, which showed a large grey oblong floating on a wiggly blue line, with a variety of stick people on top, and two more apparently flying above it. “Let me guess, this is you, and Mummy, and Selina?” she asked, glancing at the other girl, who offered a shy smile. She was smaller than Lisa, with a distinctly Latin appearance, all ebony hair and eyes and dusky skin.

“Yes,” Lisa confirmed enthusiastically. “And there’s you.” She pointed to another stick figure with white hair. She pulled a face. “I couldn’t fit any more, but that’s okay, because everyone else can be inside,” she said happily.

“And who are these?” Luella asked, with a slight catch in her voice, pointing at the two flying figures. One was wearing green, the other looked to be a man, and they had both been drawn with capes.

“That’s the green lady and Daddy,” Lisa informed her cheerfully. “They don’t need to go on the ship, they can fly, ‘cos they’re superheroes!”

The smiles of the women had become fixed, I noticed. There was a strange feeling in the air, a sense of terrible sadness mixed with fierce pride.

“Of course they are,” Luella said softly. She ruffled the girl’s hair. “Thank you for the picture, little one. I’ll put it on my wall. Now, why don’t you go draw another one for Mummy?”

“Okay,” the girl agreed easily, oblivious to the tension she had created. “I’ll draw one for the green lady too. Is she coming to see us soon, Miss Luella? She hasn’t been to see us for ages.”

“Lady Green has been very busy, sweetheart,” Luella said with a slightly strained smile. “But I’m sure she’ll make time to come visit you all as soon as she can.” She laughed a little forcedly. “And I’m sure she’d love one of your masterpieces. Go ahead and draw as many as you want.”

Lisa grinned hugely. “Okay. Bye!” She grabbed her friend’s hand and the pair of them ran back to the play area.

There was a slightly awkward silence, broken by Sara bringing over a tray of hot drinks from the kitchen. “I take it Mario and Louise and Sascha are busy in the library?” Luella asked, accepting a biscuit as steaming cups were handed around.

“Yes, although I expect they’ll be done with lessons soon,” Sara replied, glancing at her watch. “Will you stay and see them?”

Luella shook her head regretfully. “No time, I’m sorry to say. Too many things still to do. But they’ll have new company soon. The last group came in yesterday, so you’ll have a few newcomers. Twin youngsters, and a girl of about twelve I believe. I’m not sure how many of the adults yet. They’ve had their twenty-four hours after their debrief; I’m about to go and hear their decisions.”

The group of women looked grave. “Where are this group from?” Sara asked. “Are they truly the last?” Her expression was conflicted, as though she was both relieved and anxious at the prospect.

“This group is from the Outer Hebrides, just off the coast of the UK,” Luella replied. She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I was hoping that at least meant we wouldn’t have to take the time to implant English, but it seems half of them speak nothing but Gaelic, so that was a bust. And yes, they will definitely be the last group. The process takes at least four weeks to complete, so these are the last we have time for.”

The women glanced at each other. “Then,” one of the Chinese women said solemnly, “we must hope that enough have the courage to make the sacrifice.”

“Yes,” Luella said softly. “We must hope.” Then she seemed to give herself a mental shake, and stood up. “Well, we shall soon know. Sara, I will let you know numbers as soon as I have them, and send a crew to help prepare rooms. Let me know if there is anything else you need.” She smiled a sudden crooked smile. “I’d hate for Lisa and Selina to run out of drawing paper.”

A chuckle ran around the group, breaking the tension. Lisa and Tommy’s mother stood up to take her toddler from Luella, and accompanied her to the door. “I hope you weren’t offended by what Lisa said earlier,” the Australian said anxiously, glancing back over at her daughter. “I’ve tried to explain, tried to prepare her, but she doesn’t really understand.” She blinked back tears. “She’s got into her head her father is going to be a Superhero. That he’ll still be the same, just be able to fly and cast lightning like Thor. But he won’t be, will he?” The tears spilled over. “He won’t be like Thor. And he’ll never be the same.”

“No,” Luella said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder. Her expression was gentle, but resolute. “He will never be the same. The process is irreversible. It is a heavy sacrifice he is making, he and all the others. But he had the courage to make it, to ensure there is a future for you and your children. In that, Lisa is right. He _is_ a superhero.” She drew the weeping woman closer for a one-armed hug, careful of the toddler on her hip. “I wish such sacrifices were not necessary. But don’t forget, the changes are physical only. He is still Darrel, still your husband, still the man you fell in love with. Changed, but still human. If you can accept his changes, you can still have a life together when this is over. A very different life to the one you previously imagined, but still a life. If the Decimation taught us anything, it is that love cannot be extinguished. No matter how the world changes, love perseveres.”

The woman nodded, wiping her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, sniffing. “Please, don’t let me keep you any longer. I think I’ll be alright now.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I told them frankly. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Tanya had kidnapped these people! Ruthlessly marched them all out of their homes and carried them off! They should be rising up in revolt, and yet somehow, unbelievably, it seemed Tanya had managed to win them over to her side, just as she had apparently wooed Cho. Not only that, somehow, far from forcing them to become mutants in her army, she had convinced the crazy bastards to volunteer! I swore foully as I followed Luella back down the corridor, feeling increasingly desperate. How was Tanya doing this? How the hell had she managed to convince every person on this ship, despite the myriad reasons they had to hate her, that she was some kind of bleeding saviour? Was she brainwashing them somehow? It seemed improbable, I wasn’t aware of any method of brainwashing that could be conducted on such a massive scale, but what other answer was there?

I frowned darkly as we rode the hidden elevator even further down into the bowels of the ship. There had been something Luella said… something about implanting English. That made a twisted kind of sense, I decided. The language barrier would be a major obstacle to creating an army out of these little communities Tanya had transplanted; they would need some form of common basis for communication. If Tanya had somehow found a way to fast-track language acquisition – and it certainly sounded like she had – then English was the logical tongue to choose, since several of the groups came from English-speaking regions already and it was such a common language that there was a good chance that those who didn’t were probably aware of some of the basics. It was highly unlikely any of them would know a word of Russian. But if Tanya could implant an entire language in their heads, an already impossible feat, was it then so far-fetched that she might have tweaked their personalities a little at the same time? Distorted their memories slightly, perhaps, twisted events to make her lies plausible? Was that even possible?

I cursed again, wishing Wanda were here. She would have been able to look inside the minds of these people, perhaps detect signs of such meddling. While my own abilities were proving extremely useful, they weren’t nearly as versatile as hers. Or Melanie’s come to that – she too would have been able to detect such signs, from changes in the chemical pathways of the brain. But then both of them had got their powers from an infinity stone, not from human tampering.

I tried to take comfort in that thought, that no matter what these vibranium mutants Tanya was creating were capable of, they would never be as powerful as Melanie or Wanda or Carol Danvers. I just had to hope strength of numbers wouldn’t tip the balance. All the talk of a deadline made no sense at all, but it seemed Tanya’s force was not yet ready. Although that raised another pertinent question – if she wasn’t yet ready to attack, why had she all but declared war on the Avengers by torching the Barton farm and taking the children and me hostage?

Questions, questions. What I needed was answers, but every tiny nugget of fact I managed to pry out brought me no nearer the truth, simply showered me with more questions. Perhaps that was Tanya’s plan, I thought grumpily, keeping pace with Luella as we emerged into yet another corridor. To let me chase unanswerable questions until I went insane.

 _Not happening_ , I told her mental image grimly. _I_ will _get to the bottom of all this, and I_ will _find a way to get the children out of your nasty green talons. And then, my dear apprentice, you and I will have a reckoning._


End file.
